Silent Leges enim inter Arma
by Nullumstiamdictum
Summary: At the Reaping for the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Primrose Everdeen's name was not called. But Gale Hawthorne's was. This is a story of ends, not means. A story of cunning, not brute force. A story of betrayal, not love. This is Gale Hawthorne.
1. Dulce et Decorum est pro Patria Mori

**Hello, I am Terence, ****also known as Nullum est iam dictum(quod non sit dictum prius.) I strongly dislike Author's notes, as I believe they interrupt the illusion that this is real Literature. Therefore, I will make this brief. I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, its locations, or any other ideas/events unique to the Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. This disclaimer holds for the entire story, not just this chapter. **

**In other news, this piece is already written, but still needs to undergo a large amount of editing before publication. I will be able to post new chapters every couple of days, and I hope I have eliminated all errors by then. This is unlikely to actually happen, so please forgive, and feel free to point out errors (grammatical, factual, astronomical, etc.) Please review, and sorry to any mobile readers if the Image looks terrible, I apologize. **

**Also, WARNINGS: Lots of violence, but none worse than the books. Lots of swearing, but nothing real teenagers wouldn't say in these kind of situations. Implied sexual relations, drugs, and prostitution but nothing explicit. Underage drinking, but that is, once again, also in Suzanne Collin's original work. Read this at your own risk.  
><strong>

****************************C C C C C C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C************  
>C C<strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong>**************************************** 1 1 1 ************************C C C C C C C C C C C ************************2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2************************ C C C C  
>C C <strong>**********************1 1 1************************ C** C C C C C C** C C **************************** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C C** C  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C******** 2 2 2 2 **C****** C** C C C C C **********2 2 2 2 ************ C C ********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C ******2 2 2 2** C C C** C C C C C **C** 2 2 2 2****** C C **  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C ******2 2 2 2 ******** C C C C** C******** C C C** 2******** 2 2 2 ************ C C C C ********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C** C C C **********2 2 2 2 ************C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C** C C********** 2 2 2 2 ************C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C** C********** 2 2 2 2 **********C** C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C******** 2 2 2 2** C C** C C C C C C  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C******** 2 2 2 2********** C C C** C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C******** 2 2 2 2 **********C C C C** C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C******** 2 2 2 2 **********C C C C C** C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C****** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 ************C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C****** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2************ C C****  
>C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong>**********************

* * *

><p>Chapter 1: Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori<p>

"April Hemlock." The square filled with polite applause, and Gale shakily released the breath he had been unconsciously holding. His hands moved mechanically together, as he looked with the rest of the crowd to the poor chosen girl. It wasn't Katniss. Gale allowed himself to feel another faint surge of pleasure, belayed only slightly by the spectacle before him. The young girl's expensive dress fluttered slowly in the wind, its casual movement intruding on the otherwise still square. The applause had died out quickly, and her black heels could be heard tapping a faint tune on the decorative stairs of the stage. The cheery glint of her jeweled necklace cast flitting lights on her tense face, which had been replicated dozens of times in the vast televisions surrounding the square. The girl bit her lip slightly, a movement which would have been unnoticeable had the offending gesture not been inflated to more than a hundred times its natural size on the screen atop the Town Hall.

"Wonderful!" Effie, the district's escort, was always much too chipper for the occasion. She did her best to bring enthusiasm and excitement to the gathered crowd, but had little to no success year after year. She called out dryly for volunteers, and was met by the anticipated silence. April stood apathetically at her bubbly guide's side, her manner unchanged by the insult paid. No one was willing to die for her, but that had been true for every tribute from twelve stretching back dozens of years.

"And now for our marvelous male tribute!" Gale tried to relax as Effie searched for a small scrap of paper. He knew, logically, that although he had worse odds than most, his chance of being selected was still minimal. 42 out of almost ten thousand was nothing, and the difference between a .42% chance of her fingers clutching his slip, and the standard .07% chance was negligible. His assertions did nothing to help however, and Effie Trinket grasped one of the tickets before skipping to the microphone, wig turned slightly askew by the bouncing movement.

"Gale Hawthorne." Her shrill voice punctuated the anxious crowd, spurring them into movement. The citizens, as a whole, relaxed. One more reaping had been successfully avoided. While the festivities began in earnest for most, several odd people stood out, separate from the rest by an imperceptible barrier. One of these frozen figurines gained sudden life and began striding toward the stage. An easy smile graced his face, and the sea of people parted effortlessly before him as he bounded quickly up the stairs.

"Ah, and here is our magnificent male tribute!" Effie's eyes lit up and her face mimicked Gale's as she realized he wasn't sobbing, or about to throw a fit, or otherwise likely to embarrass her in the next few minutes. "Welcome, and congratulations!"

"Why thank you, Effie." Gale's eyes met hers as he smiled audaciously before offering a polite hand. Her smile became rather flat, and her brows scrunched together slightly in bemusement as they shook. She turned abruptly back to the crowd, and asked for volunteers. Gale glared at his audience, as if making silent threats against they themselves, and all their descendants, should they choose to speak up. The other teens were happy to abide by his request.

"This will be a terrific year!" Effie beamed once again for the cameras before nodding at the mayor to read the Treaty of Treason. She didn't meet Gale's eyes again.

A small buzz of conversation sprung from all corners of the square. The gamblers inconspicuously exchanged money and tickets, and relieved parents whispered back and forth. The children chatted desperately with those near them, releasing their pent up adrenaline while guiltily pondering the newly developed social drama. The general consensus, from the adults to the children, was that the selection of that Hawthorne boy, although sad as he was rather well liked, was not entirely unexpected.

Girls sighed, boys felt reluctant happiness that at least it wasn't them, and only a few were truly affected. A small cluster in the eighteen-year-old crowd stood dazedly apart. Sixteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen, as well as Gale's immediate family, were awkwardly ignored, or offered tripped-over condolences. Katniss herself could only stare in shock and dread at her long-time friend. She attempted to make eye contact with Gale, but he was too busy smiling into the cameras. He didn't so much as glance in her direction.

In the middle of the treaty, Haymitch, struck by some uncontrollable impulse, stumbled from his seat and collided with April, hand outstretched. She teetered for a moment before falling, as Haymitch landed squarely on top of her. The cameras swarmed, and laughter broke out among the now-relaxed crowd.

"Sorry sweetheart. Who are you?" April ignored him in favor of regaining her footing as gracefully as possible, dusting her dress off as she stood. Haymitch then lurched half-heartedly toward Gale, who stepped back. Haymitch's continued to aim for the place Gale had recently vacated, and he collapsed into the empty air. His head hit the worn-but-spiffy wooden stage with a dull thump before he clutched it, moaning. "World's spinning, call in the makers." Gale cast him a disgusted look as Haymitch leaned over and vomited next to his shoes. The audience was torn between cries of revulsion and full-throated bellows of laughter. The mayor continued on quickly trying, to finish the treaty and force the camera's gleeful attention away from his district. Haymitch rose for the third time before absentmindedly crawling off the stage, much to everyone immediately involved's relief.

The treaty finally ended, and Effie Trinket abruptly gestured for the tributes to shake hands. Her smile had become rather plastered on her face. Gale smirked as he shook the hand of the trembling fifteen-year-old opposite him. He displayed a cocky arrogance that sent disparaging whispers rippling through the crowd. There was usually an unspoken sense of camaraderie between the tributes, and Gale was obnoxiously disregarding it. The contrast between the two could not be more apparent. April Hemlock stood to Effie's left, average in size but softened by life in the wealthiest part of the district. Her frail hand was engulfed by Gale's, and she shook as though even a slight wind could carry her off her feet. Gale towered over her, all muscle. His eyes searched for hers, while she rested hers firmly on the ground. While small tears could be caught running down April's face, Gale's only obvious emotions were savage amusement and pleasure at his circumstances. It was like watching an injured doe shake hands with a ravenous wolf. The tributes where whisked off stage after their handshake, and the crowd gradually dispersed until the square was abandoned once more.

* * *

><p>Gale was curtly escorted into the capitol building by several uniformed Peacekeepers. They ignored both their captives and their fellow workers, preoccupied with attaining the perfect air of aloof distain. The walk was thankfully short, and Gale had no time to absorb his situation before being pushed into a lavish room to say his final goodbyes. The part of him still capable of thought laughed darkly at the absurdity of this touch. His only glimpses of luxury in life came first at his fathers death and now at the beginnings of what would likely be his own.<p>

The walls were covered in flaking gold paint, with the original stonework showing through. A small glass cover shielded the naked light bulb from his view, but the light it dispersed was still harsher than the natural light from sun or fire that was his standard fare. A soft material covered the seat below him, and he vaguely remembered seeing something similar on dresses worn by rich mothers to the reaping. It wasn't long before his first guests began arriving.

His friends from school entered first. Gale was well liked by the Seam children, due both to his personality and the economic advantage of having him as a husband or close friend. Not that his friends were consciously trying to steal his money, but his position as a hunter was envied and respected by many for the wealth and bravery it entailed. Gale largely rejected those he believed only sought him for personal gain, but wasn't always quick to send away the sluttier girls, much to Katniss's disapproval. Several of said girls entered first, sobbing all over both themselves and him, much to his disgust. Large tracts of makeup were smeared over their faces, a testimate to their earlier concern for personal appearance. Three boys followed them, gruffly earnest, although none were crying. Sage, a girl who had been religiously attempting to ask him out for the past five years, was the first to speak.

"Gale," she whined, "you have to come back for me. I don't know what I'd do without you." Gale marveled internally at her ability to make the entire situation about her. He didn't really have time to deal with her, but it would make good practice for pandering to the Capitol citizens. He ground out his irritation and wiped away some of her tears, smiling.

"Of course I'll come back for you. Just think of this as a bit of a vacation. I'll be back before you know it." He smiled and she threw her arms around him. Two of the other twits watched on in jealousy. To be fair, Robin wasn't too bad, but he wasn't really in a forgiving kind of mood. Gale was still able to make a face at his friends without any of the girls noticing. "This will be harder the longer you stay, I still have to look nice for the cameras. Goodbye Sage." She wasn't quite obtuse enough to ignore such a flagrant dismissal, and her sidekick followed her out of the room. But one of his shadows stayed.

"I really am sorry you got reaped. I just—I'm sorry." Robin looked at him with a pained expression, before hurrying out of the room. He was left with just his guy friends, and the silence stretched on. What more was there to say? Thatch, who had always been more of a joker, broke the silence.

"Bang some freak from the capitol for us alright?" Jay shot him a look, but Gale only laughed.

"Can do. In fact, I'll send her back here when I'm done just so you can finally get a girlfriend."

"Gale, you couldn't get with a Capitol bitch if you paid her." The boys relaxed a bit, and fell into a familiar pattern of taking jabs at each other's sexual prowess. Things remained relatively lighthearted until a Peacekeeper knocked on the door telling them time was up. They stood awkwardly until Gale made the first move, pulling them each into rough hugs.

"You guys have been good friends over the years. I—goodbye." Gale's school friends murmured their farewells as they were escorted from the room. Gale wasn't as close with them as with his family and Katniss, but he would still have missed them had their name been written on the unlucky ticket. Gale held no grudges against them for remaining silent when Effie had asked for volunteers. He would have done the same for them.

Gale was barely alone for more than a second before a couple barged into the room. The woman wore an intricate green dress, gilded in white lace, while the man wore a fitted black suite. Their tear-stained faces wrecked their otherwise sophisticated air, and the man paced uncontrollably. Gale had never met them before in his life, but he had a feeling he knew who they were. The man didn't keep him guessing for long.

"You stay away from April. I saw how you were behaving with her on stage and you back off. If you so much as look at her I'll—" the man cut off, realizing he had nothing material to threaten the boy in front of him with. He sobbed slightly and continued with an entirely different tone. "Please, she's our only daughter, have mercy." Gale wished he could feel some sort of contempt for these people, but all he found was pity. Despite his rants against people like them living in splendor while his family starved, it was hard to fault them now, at their weakest. All their wealth hadn't saved them, so he couldn't in good conscious scorn them for it. Well, he acknowledged, maybe he could a little bit. The man could stand to lose more than a few pounds, and he knew several people who really needed to gain them.

"Relax, I'll do what I can for your daughter." Too nice he thought, and added "district unity and all that," carelessly after. The man looked a bit surprised by Gale's attitude.

"But on the stage—"

"That was for the cameras. Part of my strategy. It's not like I have some vendetta against your daughter." He hoped the man would be stupid enough to forget that the entire Game was 'for the cameras.' He seemed to take the bait, but his wife clearly didn't.

"Oh. Ok." He seemed a bit worn out, defeated.

"Why don't you go spend some more time with your daughter."

"Good idea. I'll—yes, I'll do that." He regained some composure. "Honey, are you coming?"

"In a minute dear." The husband and wife glanced at each other, before the man put his tail between his legs and hurried out the door. The woman turned to Gale. "Despite my husband's," she paused choosing her words carefully, "optimism, you and I both know how this is going to end for April." She spoke regretfully, but her sorrow was underscored with a rigid determination Gale respected. Her face was still wet with tears, but she ignored them in favor of getting her message out. "Just—" she broke off briefly, and fixed her eyes on Gale before continuing. He couldn't have escaped her gaze if he tired. "Protect her if you can, or at least." She paused again gathering strength. "Make it quick. Don't have her suffer." Gale looked directly at her before replying.

"I will," was all he said, but he felt as if a binding contract was being initiated. The woman nodded and said no more before gathering her skirts and leaving.

Gale's family was ushered in next. Vick and Rory were both crying, although, being adolescent boys, they tried to hide it. Posy was crying because everyone else was, and silent tears streamed down Hazelle's face. It was these that startled Gale the most. His mother had always been strong. When her husband had died, she had gotten up and gone to work the next day; when they were starving and he began risking his life daily to get food, she only nodded. But now she was crying, and this more than anything cemented his plight. Half-thought through strategies aside, there were twenty-three people between him and his way home.

Gale sat Posy on his lap, and tried to cheer her up. The capitol had taken so much from her, first her father, and now in all likelihood her brother. He would never get to see her grown up, and she would barely remember him. He babbled nonsense to her to fill the silence. How could he talk to his family, when he probably would never see them again? What was there to say that had not already been said? They knew what to do. The very night after his father's death, as they sat around the table, eyes flitting to the empty space like Rory's tongue kept going to his newly lost tooth, his mother had decided to bring up disturbing topics.

"It may sound harsh, but today has made me realize a great many things, and we will not be caught off guard again. Your father is gone, and it is time you realized the same thing can happen to any of us." Anger rose within Gale, and he glanced at his siblings, who had broken out in fresh tears.

"This isn't the time."

"Then when else? When it's your turn, or mine? We were stupid, so _stupid_ to ignore the fact that any day you could be caught, or reaped, or taken from us any hundred of other ways, and I won't have us die because we decided to shelter ourselves." Hazelle placed a hand on her swollen stomach. "There is no way we'll afford a doctor when the baby comes, and anything could happen."

"Mom don't think like-"

"I'll think however I want to, Gale Hawthorne," she snapped. Looking back, perhaps she hadn't been as stoic as Gale had thought at the time. Chastised, Gale had listened as she outlined plans involving everything from tesserae, to stealing, to finding under-aged, illegal, dangerous, work in the mines for his younger siblings. None of it was pleasant, but all of it was practical. Gale always remembered that night as both the death of his father, and the beginning of his adulthood. Tesserae and hunting had been a part of his life for a few years already, but that conversation had forced him to grow up very fast. He had thought himself mature when he began venturing into the woods for his family, but he had been dead wrong. That night he had begun thinking and planning, not for his family's benefit, but for their survival. There was just one more failsafe Gale had instituted without their knowledge.

"One of you needs to go down to the Hob. I placed a ten coin bet on being chosen." It was something Gale had started doing after his father's death, and the practice had finally paid off. While most bets were placed on the age of the one selected, or how much tesserae they had taken out, it was also rare but possible to bet on an individual. It was mostly considered bad form, and the odds of guessing correctly were extremely slim, but the payoff was enormous. Every year there was a group of a hundred or more teens who took out much more tesserae than anyone else, but guessing which of that group would be selected was nearly impossible. But Gale wasn't betting to win, he was betting as an insurance policy. At least if he was chosen his family would get some money. He had always felt too guilty to do the same for Katniss, and never suggested the idea to her.

"How much will we get?"

"The odds were a hundred to one. You'll get 1,000 coins." Some gambler in the Seam would be cursing his name, but Katniss would make sure they weren't cheated. 1,000 coins was more then any of them had had in their lifetime, and Gale knew his family wouldn't spend it frivolously. It would keep them alive, at least until one of his younger siblings could take his place hunting. A twinge of irrational jealousy stole through him at the thought of one of his other siblings stealing his bond with Katniss, but he quickly quelled the impulse. "Make sure they pay you in full, and be cautious storing it. If you're careful, it should last you a while." Katniss would also help on that front. She and Gale had made a deal years earlier to help support each other's families if they were reaped, and Gale knew she would consider backing out of such a pact unthinkable.

"Gale, what wrong?" Posy had finally calmed down enough to talk, but Gale had no answer for her.

"I'm just going away for a while, ok Posy?" Posy nodded, but started crying again. Even the youngest in the district knew what the Games were. Gale and his family sat together, saying hurried goodbyes and 'I love you's. The peacekeepers came much too soon, and as Gale's family quietly left, he wondered if he would ever see them again.

Katniss entered the room next, and Gale unhesitatingly threw his arms around her. He had been strong for each of his other guests, but this was someone he could finally relax with. They had never been extremely verbal with each other, but he poured his quiet fear into their embrace. After a long moment, they pulled back.

"Come back." Gale hadn't realized two words could be filled with so much desperation.

"I will. I have a plan." The words sounded hollow, even to him, but he had to tell her. "Listen, Catnip, whatever you see me do in there it means nothing. Whatever I say, however I act, none of it is real. You have to remember that."

"What's your plan Gale? What can you do against them? You've said it yourself the Games are practically rigged. Careers are the only ones who stand a chance." Gale could see Katniss bite back the words guiltily as soon as she said them, but she was right.

"I know. That's all part of the plan." Gale gave a sad smile, but it didn't comfort her at all.

"Gale, don't you dare do anything stupid." Gale laughed at the venom in her voice.

"How could I? You'd bring me back from the dead just to kill me again." Katniss gave a watery chuckle, before Gale became serious again. "But Katniss, that's not going to be me on the screen. What I'm planning… you're not going to like it."

"Just promise me you'll come back."

"If you promise me you'll still like me when I do." Katniss rolled her eyes.

"I'll always like you." Gale became incredibly aware of how close together they were. Well, here's your last chance, he thought to himself.

"I love you, Catnip." Her eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, but she didn't hesitate as she replied.

"I love you too." Now or never. He looked down at her tear stained face, brushed a piece of hair that had fallen out of her braid out of her face, and kissed her softly. She froze, and he started to pull back, embarrassed when she regained movement. To his everlasting joy, she stood on her tiptoes and threw her arms around his neck, pulling them closer together. He held her tight as they kissed, and he was able to faintly taste some of the strawberries they had eaten earlier. All he could think about was her, and he didn't even notice the Peacekeepers until they tapped him on the shoulder.

"Time to go." They broke apart, and he could see Katniss's face redden. As they started pulling her toward the door, he shouted, "I love you!" one last time, and barely caught her reply as the door closed. Euphoria washed over him and he couldn't keep an honest smile off his face. She had kissed him back. Death seemed a little bit farther off after that, and even being escorted down the hall to the peacekeepers didn't dampen his spirits. Gale injected some cruelty into his smile as he exited the building into the flash of cameras, but his joy was still evident. He stood apart from April, who still glanced at him warily. Her eyes weren't very puffy, but a good deal of her makeup had been removed, and Gale knew she had been crying more. Other than an initial wayward glance he completely ignored her in favor of the cameras. He still had a first impression to make.

This silver train glided into the station like a storm front, steady, immovable, beautiful, and foreboding. They boarded the train without ceremony, but he stood in the doorway until the doors closed.

April waited in the corridor, fidgeting slightly. Gale turned to her for the first time, and gave her a nicer smile rather than the arrogant smirks he had been giving before. He offered his hand politely.

"Gale Hawthorne, sorry about how I was acting earlier, but it's part of my strategy." She offered an elegant hand in return automatically, although her face remained blank.

"April Hemlock." They both stood awkwardly, not knowing how to continue, until Effie Trinket found them. They both turned to her in relief.

"Ah, there you are! You can stay in your rooms until dinner. They're right this way." Effie turned and Gale and April took it as their sign to follow. "I cannot believe Haymitch decided to pass out during the ceremonies. Does he care how this reflects upon me? No. No thought for anyone but himself, and we'll take the fall for it." Effie continued her tirade as she led us to our room, and no matter how poorly Gale thought of her, he had to agree on some fronts. It would be impossible to win if Haymitch kept scaring off sponsors. He felt a pang of self-loathing at how easily he was falling into the Capitol's mindset, and playing along with their games, but he had no other option. It was either play along, or die, and no matter his personal convictions, he wouldn't hurt his family by doing something stupid and pointless, and get himself killed for no reason.

Effie left them, cheered by their sympathetic silence at her woes. April quickly entered her room and shut the door, preventing any communication between the two of them. Gale was grateful. It wouldn't help to become attached to her. It was only as he shut the door to his room that he realized he had never picked out a district token. Gale consoled himself that it would only fit in more with his plan. As of now, he was a cocky teen thrilled to be in the games. He had no morals, and definitely didn't bring any sentimental objects from home. Gale sighed looking out the window at the landscape rushing by. This would be harder then he had anticipated.


	2. Quid non mortalia pectora cogis

**Additional disclaimer, none of the Latin quotes are original. Type them into google, and it should inform you of their respective authors. **

* * *

><p><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong><strong>C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C <strong>**********  
>C C<strong><strong><strong><strong><strong>****************************** 1 1 1 ************************C C C C C C C C C C C ************************2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2************************ C C C  
>C C <strong>**********************1 1 1************************ C** C C C C C C** C C **************************** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C C**  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C******** 2 2 2 2 **C****** C** C C C C C **********2 2 2 2 ************ C C ********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C ******2 2 2 2** C C C** C C C C C **C** 2 2 2 2****** C C **  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C ******2 2 2 2 ******** C C C C** C******** C C C** 2 2 2 2 ************ C C C C ********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C** C C C **********2 2 2 2 ************C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C** C C********** 2 2 2 2 ************C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C** C********** 2 2 2 2 **********C** C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C C******** 2 2 2 2** C C** C C C C C C  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C C******** 2 2 2 2********** C C C** C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C C******** 2 2 2 2 **********C C C C** C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C C** C C C******** 2 2 2 2 **********C C C C C** C C C C C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C****** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 ************C C********  
>C C <strong>**1 1 1**** C** C C C C C****** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2************ C C****  
>C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C C<strong> C C C C C<br>************************

* * *

><p><strong>2. Quid non mortalia pectora cogis, auri sacra fames?<strong>

Gale killed time exploring his room. There was a closet full of more clothing than he had seen in some stores, a personal bathroom complete with shower, and an enormous bed all to himself. It would be odd sleeping without the constant presence of his two younger brothers. They had been with him every night since he was around six, only leaving when dreadfully ill. He smiled remembering the fuss he had put up initially over sharing his things. He hadn't been the most selfless of children, but that had changed after his father's death. Or perhaps it had changed sometime before then.

Gale had always felt trapped within the confines of his home and district 12. When he was eight, he and started taking walks around the district, wandering aimlessly, or so he had thought. Day by day he found himself drifting toward the fence, as if the trees themselves had entrenched their roots in him and were slowly pulling him home. One day, in a fit of bravery, stupidity, childishness, and defiance, Gale finally summoned enough courage to dart under the metal wire. It had been early morning, and the ground had radiated cold as he had crouched near it, doing his best to avoid the hazardous fence entirely. He had let out a small yip as the iron brushed against his skin, but he soon realized the fence's harmless nature. Emboldened, Gale had then sat victoriously for a full five minutes behind a tree, watching everything, before a squirrel had startled him back to safety. His first visits to the woods were short, but they gradually lengthened, as he became more daring. Gale often entertained the idea of running away, but practicality always held him back. It didn't, however, stop him from spending more time in the woods than was prudent.

He had developed a game with himself, trying to sneak as close to the woodland creatures as possible. At first his eight-year-old-self's loud tramping gave him away instantly, but eventually he learned how to avoid leaves and tread only in damper earth. Once he mastered the skill of sneaking up on them, he simply observed the animals. Watched the squirrels hopping through the brush, watched the rabbits freeze at any startling noise. He learned their habits, knowledge that became irreplaceable as his family grew closer to starvation.

Gale's first kill was almost an accident. Despite his overflowing confidence after setting the trap, the sight of a strangled little rabbit caught with his snare around its neck had brought him up short. The creature was tiny, and its brown fur was stained slightly red around its neck. Its large round dark eyes stared up at him. Gale had stared back for a long while before taking off the snare. Once its body was in his hands, Gale hadn't known what to do next. Eventually, he had messily butchered the beast, before frantically rubbing his hands in the dirt trying to get rid of the blood. He hadn't yet told his parents about his extracurricular activity, and wasn't keen on getting into trouble. Gale had then smuggled the meat through the busy streets, and furtively roasted it over the fire in his house. The meat hadn't been half-cooked before his paranoia won out and he wolfed down the whole piece before his family members could come home.

Progressively, Gale became more adept at hunting, and his guilt faded soon after he began growing confident enough to fully cook his meals. As money grew short during the winter before he turned 12, Gale finally confessed his crime. His mother had nodded, and his father had given him a rare smile. He had told them he was risking his life, and they had simply agreed. Approved even. What began as a selfish escape from home became his life-sustaining duty. If he didn't catch anything, they didn't eat, and he couldn't allow that to happen.

Hunters were rare but not unheard of, and he eagerly joined their ranks. It took a good deal of time before he stopped being cheated after every kill, but eventually things got better. Much of that had to do with meeting Katniss. She helped fill the gaps in his knowledge. She knew everything about the plants of the forest, knowledge that couldn't be gained through trial and error, and knew who would give the best deals. Gale only contributed his knowledge of snares, and he had always felt it an unfair trade. But Katniss had never minded.

Thinking of Katniss only made him homesick, so Gale distracted himself with a shower. The novel experience was enjoyable, once he managed to find a temperature between boiling and icy. He would have liked it more had he been able to forget the reason behind elegant metal design and the luxurious cascade of water. Gale had realized quickly that the only reason so much money was being thrown at him was to make him more susceptible to the Capitol's wishes.

Giving him so much instilled a subconscious sense of debt. He had heard year after year of tributes marvel in the interviews at all they were given, and it sickened him to realize each felt they _owed_ something to the Capitol. They became grateful for the small privileges granted to them, and slowly lost sight of the horrendous injuries they had been dealt, and their true source. Anger became directed against competitors. _They _were the enemy. _They _were the ones who had to die. The Capitol's tactics were smart, but Gale was smarter. He could only hope it would be enough. Knowledge of manipulation does not negate its effects. Seeing a trap doesn't automatically mean you won't be forced into it eventually, as he knew all too well.

Gale donned one of the dressier shirts and pants. No need to create an enemy of Effie, especially considering Haymitch's inadequacy. He opened the door as soon as Effie called for him, and saw April soundlessly appear out of the corner of his eye. She too had changed, and was wearing another charming dress, this one a light pink. Effie fawned over them. "Finally, two tributes with _manners_ and _style_. You have no idea the riff-raff I normally have to deal with." Gale buried his anger and smiled. "Come now, dinner will be served momentarily."

Waiters entered and distributed food in waves. First came small collections of smaller dishes, which Gale originally assumed to be the full meal, but Effie insisted more was coming. Then came an unknown citrus-topped fish, before the main course of lamb finally arrived. The meat was suspiciously bloody, but Gale shrugged it off. The gravy surrounding it was much taster then anything he had consumed with Greasy Sae, and he was certain they wouldn't try to poison him. It would be such a waste.

Then came a field of greens, drowned in sauces so that the dishes resembled miniature swamps. Cheese came next, and Gale gleefully realized he enjoyed Lady's better. At least hers wasn't covered in mold meant to "enhance the flavor." In all Gale's previous experience, mold was never good, and his full stomach made it easy to refuse the dishes, although it left a sour taste in his mouth to consider the prospects of the leftover food. Wherever it went he was certain no one was eating it. April and Effie flawlessly navigated the various forks and spoons, and Gale could only do his best to mimic them. The arrogance at wasting so much money just to have extra utensils was maddening. Knives and hands were the only necessity at the Hawthorne residence, and his only other experience with anything else was at the Everdeen's. If he hadn't eaten with Katniss's mother, he would have had no idea that different forks were even _meant_ to go with different dishes.

Effie supplied most of the conversation, babbling on about so and so or such and such as April and Gale nodded and attempted to appear interested. Gale wondered if talk would ever get around to more serious topics, but it never did. He caught Effie glancing at the clock occasionally, and briefly wondered if maybe she loathed this idle chatter as much as he did. His tentative hope for her depth in personality was dashed when a drunken Haymitch opened the door.

"Where have you been? We were expecting you almost half an hour ago." Gale thought Effie was giving Haymitch too much credit. From the state of his appearance Gale would have been astonished had Haymitch even noticed someone had spoken to him.

"Where's the food? He slurred before collapsing into a chair. He immediately began stuffing his face, skipping the carefully arranged cutlery. Effie looked horrified and disgusted. Gale continued eating ornate breads that he hoped were still simple enough to stay down after all the other rich foods. He was already strong and muscular, but he needed to put on weight if he was to compare to the Career boys. After a few minutes of rapid eating, Haymitch fixed his attention on Gale and April, who had been quietly moving food around her plate. His gaze was startlingly sharp, and Gale wondered briefly if he was more sober than he looked. "The two of you have five minutes to impress me. Go."

"You can go first, April." Gale once again used the kind voice from when he first greeted her. April smiled slightly, and Gale felt a twinge of guilt, but pushed it aside. April glanced at Haymitch, but her gaze quickly returned to her plate. Her metal fork tinged and screeched lightly on the ceramic material as she pushed food around distractedly, and she quickly stopped. Her face reddened slightly at everyone's attention. She mumbled something.

"I haven't got all day."

"I said, I can run pretty fast."

Haymitch sighed. "She can run pretty fast. Well shows over folks, looks like we have our victor right here." Haymitch made a grab for the wine, but Effie took it first and poured herself a glass before setting it far away.

"That's wonderful dear. I vividly remember several victors who only won because they were smart enough to run away. She's also very well mannered. I'm certain the crowd will love her." April smiled meekly, and began addressing Effie rather then Haymitch.

"I also learned some first aid from my mother. She was a doctor's assistant before she married my dad." At a nod, she continued, "I can also swim."

"Don't get in the water unless you have no other choice. They still show the clip from the year on the ocean, right? "Feeding frenzy," or whatever they're calling it now." At April's embarrassed nod, Haymitch continued. "The tributes from four are like the pack of sharks, and you are the girl from six. They'll tear you to pieces if they catch you. And they will catch you." He deftly snatched a bottle of champagne from one of the servers and popped the lid before taking a swig. Effie pushed a small fluted glass in his direction, which he ignored. He stared blankly at her for a few more moments before realizing she had nothing else to say. "Not enough Hun. You won't last five minutes." April looked crushed, but Effie put a consoling hand on her shoulder and gave Haymitch a nasty glare. "You. Boy. You're up."

Gale glanced at April but pushed forward. He wasn't here to make friends. Not any with nothing to offer, at least. "No offense April, but I'm not about to share any of my skills in front of someone who might sell me out." April's eyebrows tightened as she met Gale's gaze for the first time all evening, timidity replaced by anger. He shrugged back. He had made her look like a trusting idiot, and they all knew it. There was nothing else to say. Haymitch laughed.

"And here I thought you were going to be nicer then what I saw in the re-cap." Ouch. Cruel but, Gale conceded, deserved. "April out." April stormed out, and Effie made a move to follow her. "Leave her. The Avoxes'll make sure she won't overhear us." Haymitch looked once again at Gale.

"You're sharp. I ask that question every year and only a few tributes think far enough ahead to do that. Idiots, the lot of them." Gale's hand tightened around his fork, but otherwise did nothing. Haymitch took another swing from the champagne bottle, and Effie let out a disapproving tut. He disregarded her. "Smart and willing to be mean, both good. What else?"

Gale smirked. "I've been feeding my family for five years. I can hunt with both a bow and with snares. I'm strong. I can identify many edible and poisonous plants. I'm decent throwing knives and using them in close combat. I'm strong. Not compared to the Careers, but much better then the past half-dozen years of tributes. I can run, fish, and climb, and most importantly I have a plan."

"Well, you've got confidence at least. Don't get too cocky, because I don't care how good you are at something, odds are someone in the Games is better." Haymitch looked Gale up and down. "You've got looks, which will help if you can get a decent score. I think you're too smart to lie about your abilities, but we'll find that out soon enough. We can talk strategy later." Haymitch leaned back in his chair, clearly done, but Gale couldn't tell if he had impressed him enough. At least he hadn't been given an outright refusal like April. "Send the girl back in." An avox returned momentarily, April in tow. "You're in luck sweetheart, the boy's got a chance." April gave a questioning look before Haymitch continued. "If I'm already staying sober enough for him, I may as well coach you a bit too," he said mournfully. April smiled, but it was half-hearted until Effie put her hand on her shoulder.

"Well, now that you've decided to train them, lets go watch the reapings." Effie managed to sound simultaneously overjoyed and critical, a feat that greatly impressed Gale. Haymitch ignored her and regretfully set the champagne bottle down before wandering to the couch. April and Effie dignified themselves with chairs, placed as far from Haymitch's stench as possible, but Gale opted for the better view of the TV and sat immediately to Haymitch's right.

The TV flickered on at the touch of a button and began displaying the reapings, complete with commentary by the Capitol's illustrious newscasters. Gale watched intently as District 1's tributes leapt to the stage to volunteer. He needed to know every detail of their strategy and personality, strengths, and weaknesses. He needed to know what made them tick, know them as intimately as he knew any of his friends from home, and remain distant enough to kill them without hesitation. It was madness, but there was no other choice. The girl from 1, Glimmer, had natural beauty on her side, and she knew it. Gale saw her flounce on stage and immediately thought of Sage. A deadlier, crueler, infinitely more dangerous version. The boy, Marvel, wasn't paying to the crowd, choosing instead to inspect both his nails and the sparkling gems drizzled about his hands.

The screen flashed to district two, where two hulking eighteen year olds were chosen. The boy, Cato, was slightly shorter than Gale, but made up for it in brute muscle. He egged the crowd on, leading several chants, which drowned out their mayor's dull voice and the Treaty of Treason. He had used one of the twelve-year-olds as a stepping-stone onto the stage in his eagerness to volunteer. His partner, Clove, was more reserved then Cato or Glimmer, but still waved and smirked at the audience. Her eyes darted periodically to her fellow tribute, but her unyielding expression refused to betray her thoughts. By district three Gale knew he wouldn't be able to remember all of the other tributes, and part of him couldn't deny that he didn't want to. The girl was entirely unremarkable, and the boy showed some determination, but they were easily overshadowed by the tributes before them. Gale felt a slight pang of pity for district three, but brushed it off. Their loss was his gain.

Luckily neither tribute from four looked as ferocious as Cato or as sexy as Glimmer. Both Pearl and Rivvet were strong and eager, but neither stood out in any exceptional way. Gale had noticed from previous Games that tributes, especially the Careers, usually chose a specific persona to attract the audience with. Apparently district four had missed the memo. Only a face or two stuck out from the line of emaciated bodies that were called from districts five through eleven. A girl from five, named Vix, who ascended the stage with eerie poise, and remained unconcerned through the duration of her time on screen. A boy from nine who glanced at his partner as if deducing the best place to put a knife in her back. A silent, brutish boy from 11 that was easily as strong as the Careers. And then came district 12.

Gale watched impartially as April's name was called. The April on the screen looked much more frail than the one sitting next to him, but at least she hadn't bawled like some of the other tributes. Her tears looked much less noticeable through the cameras. The reporters largely ignored her as they continued on a tangent about Johanna Mason. Then his own name was called out. He hardly recognized himself. The boy on the screen was cocky, cruel, but with a minute hint of something indecipherable. He didn't look like Gale Hawthorne, long-time hunter and dissenter from district 12. He looked like a Career from 1 or 2, bribed or bullied into masking bloodlust with a caricature of human behavior.

By the time he was on stage the commentators had refocused, remembering their jobs, and Gale felt a foreign pleasure as they complemented his physique and strength. He insisted to himself that it was only because he was making a good impression. Then came the Treaty of Treason, and when Haymitch fell of the stage the commentators winced comically, delighting in district 12's humiliation. He tried to see some of the humor he had missed while on stage with minimal success. They shook hands, and the screen went dark.

Haymitch got up and stretched, a little unsteadily. "Bedtime. We'll discuss this in the morning." He left without further ado, leaving Effie to wish the tributes a good night. Gale wandered to his room, exhausted by excitement of the day. It was impossible to believe how much had happened, how much had changed. Believing that with every passing minute the train was hurtling him closer and closer to the end of his life however, was positively simplistic.

* * *

><p><strong>Review! -Terence <strong>


	3. Hoc tempore obsequium amicos

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>3. Hoc tempore obsequium amicos, veritas odium parit.<strong>

Gale woke long before the rest of the train, and used the time to take another shower. He knew it was pointless, since his stylist would probably insist he take another one anyway, but he wouldn't let them judge him or his district based something as fixable as cleanliness. He killed time watching the mesmerizing view from the window as they soared past the countryside. Endless shades of dark green, and navy blue twisted across the window. Scattered flashes of plants and rocks, which darted instantly from sight, were the only measure of the train's breakneck pace. Then the world suddenly turned black, like a Television broadcast cut off mid-syllable by the faulty power supply. Gale started for a moment before realizing they had entered the tunnel. He turned away, bored, and sat on his bed. He killed time planning his strategy for the Games until Effie's docile tone interrupted his musings

"Up. Up. Up. It's going to be a big, big, day!" Her animated voice had a trace of desperation to it, and Gale suspected she was not a morning person. What would be the point? She didn't have to set out traps before school to feed her family. Gale had slept in outrageously by his standards, but had still been up around two hours. The clock was encroaching on nine, and he realized all of his friends would be attending school. He imagined Thatch hitting on Lily, as Sage watched jealously from the background. Jay anxiously observing a small boy hand his little sister a flower. Not everyone's world had to be destroyed, just because his was over. It was easier to think of them obliviously adhering to their daily routines than to contemplate their injuries on his behalf.

He slid into another dress shirt and pants. Better to be over than under dressed by Effie's standards. He hated catering to her shallow ideals, but it was good practice for all the bending over backwards he would need to do to survive in the Games. Gale walked to the dining area, arriving before April or Haymitch, and saw his suspicions of Effie's morning habits confirmed by her large, steaming cup of coffee. Coffee wasn't common at Gale's house, but Mrs. Everdeen loved it and he had smelled it often enough, although most of his samplings had been rather disappointing. After a nod from one of the ever-silent waiters Gale served himself bacon, eggs, sausages, and several different kinds of fruit. After quickly sampling the variety of drinks, he decided on a mysterious sweet brown mixture. He had seen the richer citizens drinking it on occasion, but had never gotten the opportunity to try it himself. He was disappointedly pleased with the delicious flavor. April entered and gave him a cool look before ignoring him. She was clearly still upset about the previous night, but was either polite or intelligent enough to realize nothing good would come from openly reproaching him.

Haymitch entered last, but only by a few minutes. His un-hungoverness surprised Gale before he realized the Capitol must have long ago invented cures for such mundane irritations. He and Effie seemed intent on drilling into their heads the importance of following their stylist's every whim. Gale had a feeling they had had a bad experience with this in the past, but he really didn't agree with them. Eventually they got Gale to agree he wouldn't object, even if the stylists wanted to cover him in coal dust and send him out naked.

"At least that would win you some sponsors." Effie frowned, but Gale privately agreed. With some sponsors, the more scantily clad the tribute, the larger the donation.

"Besides, if you complain about the first thing they design for you, they will only make everything else much worse. There was a horrid little girl from one several years ago who annoyed her sponsor so much he put her a grey unitard and called it iron." Effie and April simultaneously wrinkled their noses in revulsion. Apparently they both remembered the minutiae of the situation in great detail. Haymitch and Gale simply nodded. The conversation roamed around the particularly ghastly costumes displayed in past years, and Gale turned his mind once more to his food. He was jolted out of inattention as Haymitch and Effie began spouting advice like a cut artery spurts blood. They issued and re-issued, earnest demands of 'smile' and 'whatever you do, don't freak out your horses.' Effie and Haymitch tried to cram hours advice into minutes, but Gale wasn't too concerned. All that was required of him was acting like he had back in district 12. No major changes. April on the other hand was trying to re-invent herself, and they didn't have an angle for her yet.

"She'll be fine, hardly anyone picks angles until the interviews anyway. Besides, I'm sure Cinna and Portia will come up with something fabulous."

"Cinna is one of my designers? How did we get someone so good?" She looked happy, for the first time since Gale had met her, but that didn't necessarily bode well for him. The Capitol definition of good and his definition of good had nothing in common, and April's thinking was more in line with the Capitol's than it was with the Seam.

"Cinna requested district 12. Lord knows why." Effie had a delightful way of insulting district 12 at every available opportunity. Gale gritted his teeth and said nothing. Thankfully, distraction came as the windows of the compartment were suddenly illuminated. They had arrived in the Capitol. Gale grimaced quickly. Time to face the masses. He pulled down the window, and a stream of cool air flooded the cabin. The train was going much slower now, and he could even pic out individual pieces of the freak-show before him. Gale smiled and waved. The crowd roared. He and the crowd repeated their actions until the train slipped under the shelter of the prep building. Gale's hand immediately fell, and he turned away from the windows. The train came to a seamless stop as the door opened, and several peacekeepers stood framed in the doorway.

"Time to shine." Effie said as they were escorted off the train.

Gale was led into a small room with the most malformed people he had ever met. They had grotesquely contorted their bodies in the name of beauty, and somehow the years of video hadn't conveyed to him their true perversion. First was Aurelius, a man whose sole goal in life seemed to be turning into a golden statue. His irises, and even patches of his skin had been replaced with gold, not to mention his hair. Light was captured in the metal and the gleaming surface reflected a twisted replica of the room back at its occupants. It was synthetic gold, of course, but even the amount covering one eye could have fed Gale's whole family for weeks. Aurelius had apparently come from old money, and had just taken this job due to his love of the Games. Only a modicum of self-restraint prevented Gale from giving the man a healthy taste of the Game's 'exhilarating' essence first-hand.

Next was Gaia, who Gale loathed least out of the three, just as he liked breaking a toe best of all the bones he had fractured in his short lifetime. She only had tattoos covering half her face with hair dyed orange and blue in alternating stripes. She was a little overzealous in describing her prize pet horse, but was comparatively mild. Last, but certainly not least was Troilus. To start with, Gale had no idea how old Troilus was. At first glance, he appeared to be somewhere in his twenties, but the closer Gale looked, the more disturbed he became. Not even Caesar Flickerman, notorious in district 12 for his unchanging appearance, was half as warped. Troilus's skin stretched tight over his bones, and the healthy glow in his cheeks had been dyed on. There was an empty, unnatural look in his eyes, and Gale eventually realized they had been replaced at some point by mechanical replicas. He had wanted to appear younger. He looked like a recently re-animated corpse.

And Gale was forced to let them paw over his body and show him their idea of beauty. Gale had no reservations in his thanks that his Stylist only wanted a "beauty base zero." If it had been left up to the Prep Team, Gale would have considered himself lucky to have his skin and eye color intact by the time they were satisfied. Despite their insistence that the districts knew nothing in the way of style, there was no shortage of compliments on his _own_ appearance. According to Gaia, Gale was "camera ready" and Aurelius put it a little less comfortingly when he said, "you may not be Finnick Odair, but I know several people who have already told me how jealous they are of how well acquainted with you we get to be." Gale fought the urge to squirm at his strategically placed glance, and instead smirked back.

"They shouldn't be jealous for long, I'm not exactly shy." The stylists giggled about their work in reply, occasionally involving him in conversation, but otherwise gushing amongst themselves about the latest trends.

Gale was stripped, poked, waxed, and made otherwise 'flawless.' He was bathed in more stinging chemicals and bubbly shampoos than he had realized existed. He felt exposed, not only to the assistants, but also to everyone they represented. The people of the Capitol couldn't wait to get their greedy little feelers on him. To change him, turn him into the person they wanted. And he let them. He smiled charmingly at their adoration of his body, smirked devilishly when they made untoward marks about his availability, and nodded sympathetically at their complaints that the Games could only come once a year. It was an exercise in self-control, and a chance to learn more about his target audience. If they wanted sexy, he would give them sexy, if they wanted arrogant, he would give them arrogant. Gale was disgusted with himself, but he knew it was necessary. Not only for his own survival, but likely for the survival of his family members.

Gale wasn't an idiot. He wasn't sure his family could survive without him, even with the money he gave them and Katniss supporting them. Only Rory was old enough to take out tesserae, and he had no idea how to hunt. Gale regretted his selfishness in neglecting Rory's training in favor of spending more time with Katniss, but past actions couldn't be changed. And death was a diverse actor; the cloak of hunger was not his only disguise. Gale had no illusions about what would happen if he failed to follow the Capitol's every whim. Considering the Capitol's punishment of minor offences, Gale could only imagine what they would do if he propagated his beliefs on live television. Regardless of personal ideals, Gale couldn't sacrifice both himself and his family for a futile cause.

So Gale sat still. He made casual conversation. He hid his feelings, and gathered as much information as possible. He coolly noted fashion crazes and popular conversational topics. The banter lingered on a recent nauseating scandal involving a girl named Leda and her illicit relationship with a swan, of all things. Gale had known all his life that those who lived in the Capitol followed a different pattern of living then those in district 12, but he had never comprehended how utterly correct he was. All that mattered to the stylist's assistants was gossip and the latest fad. Aurelius shed tears recounting his dog's bad hair cut, and then laughed only moments later as Troilus reenacted a particularly gruesome death from a Game several years earlier in an attempt to cheer him up.

The more Gale heard, the more incredulous he became. As far as Gale was concerned, these people weren't even _human_. Humans didn't care more about animals then people, and Gale couldn't help but sigh in relief the moment they left him to the mercy of his stylist. At least then, no matter how horrible, there would only be one of them. The double doors snapped open with a clang, and the sharp clack of his stylist's heels betrayed her presence to everyone within a ten-mile radius. Her blonde hair bounced in perfected curls, and bright red eyes gleamed under orange lids. She offered Gale a glitter-soaked hand, which he politely took. Thankfully, none of the sparkles rubbed off on him.

Despite her intriguing fashion sense, Portia wasn't nearly as bad as Gale had feared. She seemed much more practical then her assistants, as at least the makeup didn't appear to be permanent. Her greatest defect was also her greatest asset, as Gale knew instinctively that she loved her work. Her choice in designing for the Games was perhaps one that spoke to less flattering aspects of her personality, but he knew she would at least try. Although a much different canvas, it was obvious that even the smallest details in her wardrobe had been chosen with the same precision he used to create snares for catching prey. She was catching eyes and minds rather than limbs, but the intent was identical, and he trusted she would use the same skills in designing his own costume. Gale had nursed a secret fear that he would be given a stylist who didn't care one wit about him or district 12. It might still be true, but Portia probably wouldn't abandon him, or give the minimum amount of effort for fear it would reflect poorly on her own work.

She ran her eyes clinically over his body, but somehow it didn't make Gale feel quite as bare as with the assistants. For once Gale relaxed slightly, putting away his persona for another day. "You can put your robe back on, we'll need to make this quick."

"What will I be wearing?"

"This." Portia shoved a black jumpsuit into Gale's hands. He gave her a skeptical look, and she continued. "It was Cinna, my partner's, idea. Madness really, but quite ingenious." Gale was still concerned with the madness part, but was unable to reply as Portia helped him dress quickly. "The idea is that the two of you, April as well, won't be going as miners, but as the coal itself." Gale was slightly disappointed, as this wasn't the first year tributes from twelve had gone as coal. He quickly consoled himself with the fact that he would at least be wearing _something_. Portia must have seen his look, and smiled. "This is where the madness comes in. What do you do with coal?" She looked expectantly at Gale, and he felt slightly stupid with his simple reply.

"You burn it?"

"Precisely." Gale began to feel the faint stirrings of trepidation at his stylist. The rational part of him knew that his stylists couldn't burn him alive before the s even started, but another part wasn't so certain. "Cinna came to me about a month ago with the idea to set you both on fire." So maybe it wasn't out of the question. Gale began to regret agreeing to listen to whatever his stylist said, but Portia looked at him happily. "That was exactly my reaction too, but you're going to love what we've come up with." She had just finished fastening a cape around his back, and was reaching for something on a nearby table. "Just watch." To Gale's astonishment, she then proceeded to light her shirt on fire. Gale jumped back in fear, but Portia only laughed. This did nothing to quiet his concern. "Synthetic fire. My husband designed it once he heard our problem. It can't burn you, but it looks and behaves like any real flame." She sprayed a light foam out of a canister, and the flames disappeared as if they had never existed.

"How does it work?" Fear was replaced by genuine curiosity. Gale had never seen anything like it.

"No idea. All I know is that it _does_ work. I'll leave the how's and why's to other people." Gale felt a sting of irritation, but it was so trivial compared to the loathing he had felt earlier with the Prep Team that he was able to easily brush it aside. "We'll light your capes on fire right before you go out." Portia glanced at a clock hanging on the wall. "You've still got nearly a half hour before then, but I don't think April will be ready yet. Some of the other tributes might be. I won't keep you here talking to me if you want to make some new friends." There was a twinkle in her eye, and Gale smirked back.

"I'd love to get better acquainted with the other tributes." Aurelius's phrasing felt odd on his tongue, but from Portia's disapproving stare, she hadn't noticed.

"Have fun," she replied before opening a door for him and gesturing through.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the short chapter. Another will be posted between 1 and 2 PM, Pacific Daylight Time. Also, please review. I have no idea if anyone besides Ellenka even likes this.<strong>


	4. Nusquam est fidelis

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C ****  
><strong>C C<strong>** 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C **2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C **2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C **2 2 2 2 **C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C **2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C **2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C **2 2 2 2 **C C C C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C ****  
><strong>C C <strong>**1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C ****  
><strong>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C<br>****

* * *

><p><strong>4. Nusquam est fidelis cum potente societas<strong>

The door led to a large staging area. There were no windows, probably to prevent snooping fans, but it was illuminated by large, bright white, lights on the ground. The walls and parts of the ceiling were still in shadow, but most of the area at eye level was visible. Men and women bustled here and there making minor adjustments on horses and chariots. Several figures lurked on the sidelines, eyes darting, poised to prevent the tributes from starting the Games too early. Gale had heard of tributes sabotaging one another at practically every stage in the proceedings, although none of it was reported. It was pretty easy to guess what had happened when a tribute arrived at the Opening Ceremonies with a hastily wrapped arm or broken chariot. The only aspect left out of the rumors was the exact consequences for such actions. Gale suspected that the Gamemakers tormented the aggressors in the arena, but for all he knew they had been rewarded for their initiative.

Gale fixed his gaze last on his competitors. Only a few were out, and they all stood close to their chariots. From what he could tell it was mostly tributes from the higher districts, where stylists were sometimes less than attentive. He could see at least one tribute, from ten, in a horrible furry monstrosity, and looking less than pleased about it. Gale was surprised he couldn't smell the reeking pelt from his spot over a hundred meters away. Only one of the Careers was done being prepared by their stylists, but to his surprise and pleasure, it was Glimmer. Then again, it made sense that Careers like Glimmer would have had most of their prep work done before arriving.

In flesh and blood, Glimmer was even more radiant than on screen. Her shimmering golden dress covered a very small amount of skin, and was made entirely of gems and precious metals spun into a glistening fabric. Her skin had been dusted with what appeared to be flecks of gold, and her hair fell in flawless ringlets. Her immaculate looks couldn't be considered pure or pristine, but rather they exuded an air of calculated brilliance, like a fine ornament fashioned out of pure wealth. But Gale could see her toned muscles hidden under layers of elegance and refinement. More than one tribute had mistaken beauty for frailty before, both inside the Career pack and out, and Gale was determined he wouldn't follow their example. Internal plans aside, however, Gale knew she was his best bet into the Careers. He winked when she looked his way, and she smirked saucily back.

"You've got to be careful there Glimmer, some of the audience might just want to rip that dress right off of you…for the diamonds of course." Glimmer turned up her nose and sighed dramatically.

"Such is the life of district one." She eyed Gale's costume critically. "I don't think anyone's going to want to take that hideous thing off of you." Thank you Glimmer.

"If you think it's that awful, I promise I'll have it burned before the night is out." Glimmer laughed, and Gale sauntered steadily closer. He needed to capitalize on the opportunity she was giving him. "It's no joke. Just say the word Princess, and I your humble servant will do whatever your heart desires."

"In that case come sit with me. I tire of the unwashed masses." Glimmer glanced pointedly at the fur-balls from ten. Gale leaned casually against the district 1 chariot, careful not to get too near the horses.

"I can fix that for you too." Not very subtle, but he couldn't be too smart.

"Can you now?" She replied distantly, with only a faint tone of amusement. Glimmer wasn't taking Gale seriously, and they both knew it.

"Just say the word." Gale tried to add a little more depth to his voice, but Glimmer's expression didn't change. He was about to start his exit strategy when they were joined by the hulking mass from district 2.

"Looks like the party's started without me."

"Oh, we'd _never_ start without you, Cato." Glimmer was practically purring, but Cato glanced over her dismissively in favor of glaring at Gale.

"And who decided the to let the rabble join." Cato looked him up and down, and his mental exertion was practically visible as he attempted to size Gale up. Gale took a quick opportunity to do the same. Cato was shorter, but not by much, and he looked like he outweighed Gale by several dozen pounds. Gale wasn't tiny, muscle from hunting outweighing the more than occasional lack of food, but he was like a wild dog compared with Cato's bear.

"Oh, play nice Cato, Gale and I were just getting to know each other, weren't we?" Gale was a bit surprised by Glimmer's backing of him, but guessed she hadn't taken kindly to being rejected.

"Yes, we were just discussing the interesting animals that seem to have been let into the building." Cato glanced over at the other tributes, but turned back unconvinced.

"What makes you think you have any right to be here 12?"

"And what makes you think _you_ have a right to be here Cato? This is my chariot after all." As flattered as Gale was by Glimmer's acceptance, he didn't really need his alliance broken up before it started. Luckily someone else had the same idea.

"Making enemies already, Cato? Why am I not surprised. I apologize for my partner's bluntness." Clove magically appeared at Cato's side. He shot her a look, but backed off quickly.

"All's forgiven." Glimmer physically brushed away some air, in a gesture probably unique to the lower districts. "This _is_ our first meeting after all, he has a right to be curious." Their heads turned to Gale in unison, and it crossed his mind briefly that the other Careers might have planned their little confrontation to soften him up. Well, he wouldn't give away all his secrets that easily. Gale turned to Glimmer first.

"Oh I agree with you," He turned back to Cato "You do have a right to be curious, but I'm afraid I'll have to leave you that way. At least until tomorrow." The Careers would never take him seriously until they had seen him shoot. Gale just had to find a way to not piss Cato off too much.

Glimmer pouted and brushed her hand along Gale's face. "I don't like being kept waiting." Gale laughed.

"I'd never want to keep _you_ waiting Princess, so I'll say this: not everyone in district 12 works in coal mines. There are other less," Gale paused for a moment as if choosing his words "sanctioned means of working your way up in the world." Gale smiled again. "Other than that my lips are sealed for the night. Actions speak louder then words, and I think you'll find I have as much a right to be standing by this chariot as any of you do." Gale let the serious tone drop from his voice. "Except of course you, my dear, as it is your chariot. And I see Marvel and Rivvet have decided to join the party." Both had entered silently, but Gale was eager to detract attention from himself.

He felt suddenly surrounded by Careers. Somehow the jump from three to five made all the difference. Marvel's brooding strength was highlighted by the silver and black armor his stylists had fashioned for him, and Rivvet looked much more formidable in close quarters. His scales reflected the light almost as much as Glimmer's gems, and they melted into his skin, giving him an alien appearance that was only slightly offset by the rather dull look on his face. The others surrounding him were equally, if not more, dangerous looking. Even Cato and Clove's stylists, who had been restricted to rocks as their inspiration had managed to make them look solid and untouchable as ancient sculptures carved from marble. If they decided to reject him, these people could easily be the ones to kill, or attempt to kill, him.

"What took you so long Marvel?" Gale could detect a bit of tension between Glimmer and Marvel, and hoped he had made the right choice in approaching Glimmer first. It wouldn't help to become Glimmer's ally and no one else's.

"Rasparia decided she wanted to add contacts at the last minute, and they took a while picking the color." Marvel's eyes looked like they had been painted over in liquid silver. The contrast between his bright eyes and darker skin was unnerving, but Gale was glad the designers had at least stayed away from the red section of lenses.

Glimmer tutted, but said nothing. Cato spoke next. "Sorry to cut this meeting short, but I have a stylist who needs me." Cato didn't wait for acknowledgement before starting away. Clove rolled her eyes and smiled before following. Gale glanced back at his own chariot, and saw April standing awkwardly alone. He quickly looked away. It wouldn't help him to make them a packaged deal.

"So Rivvet, any reason you're covered in fish scales?" Gale joked to break the silence. He also wanted to know more about the tributes from four; he knew the least about them.

"I come from the fishing district." Not even an attempt at witty banter. Not intelligent, or at least pretending not to be. Gale filed it away for later.

"Thrilling." Gale took a cue from Glimmer and Marvel's reactions and looked down at him. "Much entertainment in that these days?" Gale was really giving him openings now to prove his bloodthirstiness, but Rivvet obstinately ignored the hint.

"Oh yes, lots." He then proceeded to describe in excessive detail the various aspects of fishing in district four. Gale interrupted him after about a minute with a quick, "Is that you're stylist, someone looks like they're trying to get your attention?"

"What? Where?" Rivvet looked around confused, but Glimmer bailed Gale out.

"Oh yes, he just disappeared behind your chariot, why don't you go find him?" She smiled sweetly at him, but as soon as he turned around it turned to a look of distain as he lumbered away. "Dumb as a brick, that one."

"Yeah, sorry I set him off. Apparently his mentors haven't talked to him yet about impressing us."

"Or he's good at playing stupid." Gale and Glimmer nodded in agreement. The tension Gale had felt earlier between the tributes had dissipated, leaving him more certain that they had orchestrated at least some part of the night's proceedings. He saw Portia waving him over, and realized how much time had elapsed.

"Unfortunately I must depart, dearest. I'll see you guys tomorrow." Gale gave an exaggerated bow before waving. He caught them glancing at each other out of the corner of his eye as he turned away. He had introduced himself at the very least, and the Careers were probably considering letting him join, which counted for something.

"Sorry to interrupt, but the two of you need to get on the chariot." It was Cinna, the stylist Effie and April had been fawning over. Gale was surprised at how normal he looked, but the thought did not encourage him much. There was some tone in Cinna's voice, and Gale was given the distinct impression the man didn't like him much. Gale climbed onto the chariot, wondering what he had done wrong. Perhaps the man had taken a liking to April and was mad at him for abandoning her. Whatever the problem, he could see no means of resolving it.

"Nervous?" April didn't look at Gale, but he could see her trembling a bit.

"Perfectly fine." Gale knew a dismissal when he saw one, and didn't say anything else. It was probably for the best, after all he wasn't here to make friends. It would just make it harder to kill her if the time came. The doors to the staging area opened, and the roar of the crowd rushed in. Unlike in district twelve, the Hunger Games were truly a celebration in the Capitol. The event of the year that he wished he hadn't been invited to attend. Trumpets gave a fanfare, and loud music boomed from unseen speakers. The first few chariots began to move out, to much applause. Gale could see Cinna waiting for some signal, and the second the district four chariot left, he lit April and Gale's capes on fire. Clearly he wanted the Careers to suspect nothing.

Gale felt a faint uneasiness in his stomach. He hadn't had time to anticipate his former appearances, and it was easier to forget just how many people were watching when they weren't jumping up and down cheering him on. Here he was given much too much time to anticipate his entrance, and remember how much depended upon it. Chariot after chariot exited the room, each greeted by new cheers and exclamations. Gale schooled himself. These people could only help him, but he had to give them a reason to. He forced himself to start smiling by the time the district eleven chariot left, not wanting to be caught unaware.

The noise hit him like a solid force the moment their chariot slid out the doors, but then there was a sudden hush as the crowd examined their costumes. Gale smirked and gave a welcoming wave, and they erupted into cheers. They were loud and frenzied, but they were predictable. Despite everything, Gale was the one in charge. He could awe them with a smile, command them with a gesture; they were animals and he was holding the reigns. They chanted his name, they screamed their affection. For an instant, Gale was able to understand why someone might volunteer. He caught a glimpse of himself, hundreds of times life size, on an enormous screen. He looked radiant. He looked otherworldly. And he looked dangerous. None of his smiles were open or jubilant. He wasn't reserved by any measure, but he was in control of himself and was confident.

His chariot rolled into place in front of the Capitol building itself. Despite having seen its white pillars uncountable times on television, the cameras hadn't captured the structure's true form. It was at once engulfingly huge and infinitely small. It was much larger then any building he had ever seen, but Gale couldn't quite comprehend how everything wrong in his world stemmed from this one little place. The crowd was still demanding his attention, but his mind was not entirely on it. The television flickered through all the tributes, but Gale unconsciously realized that cameras were spending much more of their time focused on him and, to a lesser degree, April. Glimmer's fixed smile when they paused on her almost made Gale laugh. Hopefully it would make the Careers respect rather then despise him, but privately he thought it might be worth it either way.

President Snow himself came to give a long speech about the importance of the Hunger Games, but Gale found himself tuning it out. It wouldn't due to sour his expression on camera, even if only for an instant. Instead he amused himself by encouraging the people in his immediate area to clap in unison with the music. Gale knew he was pushing it, ignoring the president so blatantly, but the crowd just grew more enthusiastic by the minute. Flowers of every kind fell sporadically around him, and Gale laughed and let fire to a few before throwing them back. This resulted in many more flowers, to which Gale happily administered the same treatment. He doubted any of the people gathered before him would understand the symbolism behind burning their gifts and throwing them back. Somewhere he was sure Katniss was watching and laughing. He pushed thoughts of her out of the way. He needed to be a Career, something that didn't mesh with the Gale he was with Katniss.

The speech finally ended, and Gale could hear the groans as he left his little fan club. He gave them small bow before waving goodbye to compensate for his absence. The action was judged acceptable, but his newfound friends screamed their disappointment at his departure. Gale continued his trademark of setting the flowers he received on fire before tossing them back, and the crowd continued cheering in return. Gale found himself enjoying the way they adored him a little too much, and made a mental note to talk to Haymitch for a while to knock down his confidence level a bit. But not that much. He was supposed to be a cocky Career after all.

Gale only dropped his smile when the doors slammed shut behind their chariot, abruptly cutting off all sound. Cinna and Portia ran over and extinguished their flames with the odd smelling foam before hastily congratulating them on their performance.

"It was all your costumes Cinna. They're absolutely amazing." Gale had purposefully ignored April when on camera, and was a little startled to see her beaming. She had clearly gotten over her nerves, although he would have to review the footage to see if it was before or after the doors had separated them from the crowd.

"They really are wonderfully, the two of you did a fantastic job." Gale was willing to extend the hand of friendship to Cinna, even if he wasn't willing to respond. The four of them exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before breaking up. Portia cited a call that required her attention, and Gale excused himself when it became clear Cinna and April were going to spend more then a few seconds talking over the pros and cons of lace in dresses. Most of the tributes had already left, but Gale was able to catch Glimmer's eye and wink again. She nodded back smirking. Gale had scored a point and they both knew it. The other Careers had already left, and she was alone. Another tribute was in the elevator when Gale entered it, but the young girl quickly scurried out. The door was about to close when a hand snaked in to stop it.

"Can I come in?" Glimmer was already in the door by the time her question was finished, but Gale replied anyway.

"But, of course." Gale was nervous. He could tell Glimmer was up to something, and he didn't like an encounter without an escape route. He briefly recalled the time he had been trapped in a tree for several hours as a pack of wild dogs bayed beneath. Even then he hadn't felt so cornered. But he couldn't let his façade drop. "I know I've already said it, but your dress is really quite stunning." He watched her movements carefully, and was hardly shocked when she 'accidentally' leaned on the stop button midway to the first floor.

"Oops. Guess that'll take a little while to fix." She edged her body closer to Gale's, putting a noticeable sway in her movements. "While we're here, I was wondering if you could answer a few of my questions. Between friends." She was almost touching him, and Gale was positive the other Careers had sent her to do this. He looked her up and down, making his eyes follow her curves suggestively. He had a part to play.

"As I've already said, I'll tell you all you want to know. I just happen to find demonstrations a little more useful." Gale was curious to see how far she would up the ante in a glass elevator in full view of the cameras.

"Just one teensy little question." She put her hand on his chest, and Gale realized he was practically backed against a wall. "What is this illegal little business of yours?" This would be easier then he thought.

"I hunt wild animals." Gale brushed her hand away, and took a step forward. Glimmer was a little startled by the movement, and Gale didn't want to scare her too much. "You can see why I may have gained some useful talents." With that he put a hand under her chin, brought her mouth closer and kissed her soundly. He felt a pang of regret thinking of Katniss, but pushed it aside. He had to do what he thought was best if he ever wanted to see her again. Gale easily dominated the kiss; Glimmer submitted without a fight. It would have been flattering if he hadn't known it was all to get him off his guard. He pulled back and smirked, just as the elevator started again. Glimmer looked a little too surprised by his actions, but Gale ignored it. He practically pushed her onto her level, and waved cheerfully at an indignant mentor staring from the background.

The door closed and Gale flashed a thumbs up to the cameras he knew were honed in on them. He continued to smirk until the elevator reached his floor, gave a short wave goodbye, and entered the level for district 12. Haymitch was sitting on the couch, watching an instant replay of his kiss with Glimmer. Gale was equally ashamed and pleased to see it looked like he had been enjoying it. Haymitch gave him a questioning look, and Gale shrugged back before rolling his eyes and continuing on into his room. It was only then that he let himself slump against one of the walls.

He had kissed plenty of girls in his life, and done much else besides, but this was different. It hadn't meant anything to him, but Gale worried how Katniss would take it. He knew how it would look to her. How he was betraying her with every move he made toward the Career pack. He punched a wall in frustration. He had a character to fit into, and convincing the Careers of his honesty was a matter of life or death. He shouldn't feel this guilty about it. Gale's hand started smarting, and he added it to a growing list of things he regretted doing since he had been chosen.

Gale undressed quickly and entered the bathroom, intent on washing the Capitol stink off of himself. But even the shower had dozens of buttons for soaps and shampoos. The Capitol was everywhere, and even washing would only make its influence on him grow. Gale settled for the simplest controls he could, and got out quickly. He threw on an elegant shirt and some dressy pants. A foul mood was no excuse for alienating Effie and his stylists. It wasn't yet time for dinner, but Gale knew staying in his room would make him go crazy. He felt like one of the exotic pets he had seen in the crowd. A mountain lion with pink fur and a jeweled chain, yearning to slaughter the defenseless humans around it, but held back by years of breeding and training. Gale walked into the main room and sat moodily on the couch.

"You're not off to a very good start." Gale turned to Haymitch in surprise. What had he done wrong? "If you're feeling guilty now, you won't survive even if you do win." Gale wanted to argue, but found he couldn't. Haymitch was too observant. "Of course, the only ones who really get over it all are the ones who were crazy going in." Haymitch was serious for once, and Gale wondered for the first time what the consequences of winning really were. He stopped himself quickly. Having doubts about wanting to win would get him killed within the first hour. He had to win, if not for himself, then for his family.

"Well, then I guess I don't have anything to worry about," Gale replied sarcastically. Haymitch laughed. Gale watched himself kiss Glimmer over and over again as 'relationship experts' discussed their budding romance. According to them, Glimmer was clearly infatuated with him. Gale thought that was about as likely as Glimmer becoming infatuated with Haymitch.

Effie called them in for dinner shortly. April had arrived and dressed while he showered, and was apparently fine with her hair and makeup. Cinna and Portia arrived to dine with them, and a significant portion of the conversation was on their magnificent design. Complements flew from one and of the table to another. Champagne was passed around, and Gale gratefully drank his. Chatter like this was easier to take buzzed. Gale was no stranger to alcohol, although it was technically illegal for anyone under the age of 20. Gale had frequently attended parties where beer, and a district 12 specialty called Flamer, was served. He knew Katniss didn't approve of such frivolous wastes of time, and nominally he didn't either, but it was satisfying to ignore all the scheming and corruption for at least a few hours, finally acting like a rebellious teen instead of a responsible parent.

The meal culminated in a flaming dessert, ordered as a homage to their costumes. As a server, dressed in a crisp white uniform, leaned over to place a slice before him, Gale froze. One of the silent waiters had caught his attention. It was a girl, with bright red hair and a face he could never forget. She noticed his rigid posture, and her eyes widened fractionally, as she shook her head back and forth quickly. Gale looked down, hoping no-one had noticed their exchange. Haymitch's eyes were on him, but Gale trusted him not to say anything. The others were engrossed in their conversation, and went on as though nothing had happened. Gale quietly ate for a few minutes, tossing in only the occasional comment.

When he had controlled his expression adequately, he glanced in her direction again, confirming what he already knew to be true. He recognized her. He had watched as she tried valiantly, futilely, to escape the capitol's hovercrafts. Watched and done nothing. He had seen her friend murdered because of his inaction, stared as a crimson stain leaked across the boy's chest from the spear attaching him to a nearby hovercraft like a corrupted umbilical cord. Gale knew that if they had been in opposite positions, he would have killed her on sight. It was what he deserved, and he was only lucky she had more self-restraint than him. Gale longed for some way to repay the girl, but there was nothing. No way to make up for his mistakes. Regrets couldn't raise the dead. He tuned back into the conversation, making a mental note to ask Haymitch about the servers later.

They retired to the main room to watch the Opening Ceremonies. Gale paid little attention, wrapped up in his own thoughts, but did note several things. First was that they had definitely gotten more then their fair share of screen time. Second, that the commentators were full of questions about "the mysterious teen from twelve." Thirdly he noticed April. It was obvious to anyone watching that he had outshone her, but she had given some timid smiles to the crowd, much to their enjoyment. It amazed Gale how outspoken she could be in private with Effie and yet remain frozen in front of an audience. Gale felt pity for her, but there was nothing for it. Only one person could win the Games, and Gale was still hoping it wouldn't be her.

The screen went dark, and the stylists left. No one had yet confronted him about his kiss with Glimmer, much to his relief. He doubted April had heard of it yet, and he knew Effie was too polite to ask, but he was grateful all the same. Gale bid them all goodnight before retreating to his room. He felt drained. From the mental strain of listening to Aurelius, Troilus, and Gaia, from his talk with the Careers, from his kiss with Glimmer. With his down sheets, soft bed, and dark room, it was no surprise Gale dropped off to sleep almost the moment he lay down.

* * *

><p><strong>Review! -Terence.<strong>


	5. Non semper ea sunt, quae videntur

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>5. Non semper ea sunt, quae videntur<strong>

Gale rose once again of his own accord, and found he had nothing to do. That was the worst of it. In between frantic moments of effort, Gale had plenty of free time to contemplate what he was about to do. Twenty three people wanted him dead. Not wanted, needed. There was no changing, no avoiding, that one unalienable fact, and Gale had to accept it. No matter how many times he thought he had finally grasped the concept, the realization dawned from another angle. Eventually Gale understood the problem. It was incomprehensible. The idea that would either be killed or killing in less then a week was too abstract, too horrifying to imagine. He was in some twisted dream, and trying desperately to wake up. At some point, Gale decided to go with it. There would be ramifications eventually, but by treating it all like any other game, he could at least deal with it. He could at least get some training in and gain alliances without curling up into a little ball and refusing to move.

Gale was glad he had already dressed when Effie arrived. She rushed him through breakfast as Haymitch lectured him on what he should and shouldn't show the Careers. They hadn't had much time to talk real strategy, what with Haymitch's drinking binges, so only about half of the information given to him was useful. April was only just walking into the room by the time he was done eating, and Effie sighed in exasperation. "Just go down without her. You're going to be late as it is. Gale glanced at the clock. Training didn't start for another twenty minutes, but Effie was beyond reasoning with.

"Wait." Gale waited as Haymitch began to speak. "Don't say anything to the Avoxes. The people in white." He clarified at Gale's confused look. As comprehension and curiosity dawned on him, Haymitch continued. "They're traitors, and the Careers won't take kindly to you treating them as anything better than part of the scenery. Don't make very good talking partners either." Haymitch let out a loud laugh, while Effie only looked disgusted.

"Why?"

"They had their tongues cut out. Now lets stop talking about it. " Effie glanced around as she said this, as if the very frankness of the explanation was somehow illicit. Gale shrugged, masking his horror, and started off on his own. It shouldn't have surprised him. He had seen the Capitol do much worse, and the girl's presence was proof the servants were more than they appeared.

Gale jabbed the button for T with particular vehemence, but soon quieted himself. Glancing around, he noticed a button above the 12 labeled R. It stood to reason that meant Roof. Gale rebelliously debated going up instead, but resigned himself to following the rules. For now. The elevator stopped once at seven, and a boy and girl entered. The boy was around fourteen, and the girl was seventeen or eighteen. They stood apart, and neither made eye contact with Gale. The three of them rode to the training area in silence. Gale knew he should have said something Careerish to them, but if someone questioned him he could claim he wasn't awake yet. It was as good an excuse as any.

The district four tributes were already waiting, as were the tributes from 3 and 10. Someone had decided they all needed their district number pinned on their backs. The practice had probably paid off more then once when a Neanderthal from one of the Career districts forgot which tributes to threaten. Gale reluctantly put his on, and glanced around the room. Weapons stations of every kind were grouped on one side of the room. Stations with names like 'rope-tying' and 'plant identification' were on the other. A long table stood in the center, which would presumably be filled by the Gamemakers.

Gale made his way over to the tributes from four. It was unlucky that they were the only two available, considering he hadn't even met one, but he would just have to make due. Gale was able to size them both up better in the short walk over. Rivvet, who Gale still assumed was either stupid or faking it, was both shorter than him and less muscular than Cato. Either deficiency could be made up for in skill, but Gale would have to wait for the start to see if the boy's training had paid off. The girl looked stronger than either Clove or Glimmer, but Gale knew nothing else about her. She smiled good-naturedly as Gale approached.

"Sorry I didn't get a chance to meet you last night, I'm Pearl." She extended her hand, which Gale firmly shook. He was put off by her friendliness, but internally shrugged. Anything could be an act with these people.

"Gale." He paused as she looked like she was going to continue.

"Yes, it's really a shame. My stylist took _forever_ finishing up on my scales. I don't know why those people are considered professionals." She rolled her eyes.

"I was lucky my costume didn't require much preparation." Fashion wasn't Gale's strong suit.

"Yeah, plus your stylist was good. I got a bumbling idiot. It's not fair how some people have all the luck." So she was spoiled, but Gale figured that was mostly to his own advantage. He let her do most of the talking. "I'm glad at least _some_ aspects of this are determined by actual talent." She gestured around at the equipment.

"I agree. It'll be nice to see how much of everyone's skill is just in talking." Cato and Clove arrived just as Gale finished speaking.

"That _will_ be entertaining." Cato's smile was poisonous, but at this point Gale assumed angry and mean was his natural state of existence. "I wonder what weapons you'll try to learn first Gale?" If he was trying to insult Gale's abilities he was doing a very poor job of it.

"Bows and arrows have always fascinated me. We'll see if I have any natural aptitude." Rivvet looked confused, but everyone else smiled at Gale's presumed joke.

"So the elusive tribute finally talks." Marvel was by himself, but that didn't surprise Gale.

"Elusive? I thought that was you?" Asked Clove teasingly. Gale thought it remarkable how easily they got along considering how carefully they were plotting each other's deaths.

"Elusive, hardly."

"Yes, haughty is closer to the mark." Glimmer completed the group. Gale glanced at the clock. There was still ten minutes to kill.

"No-one asked you, slutty." Glimmer only smiled.

"It's not an insult if it's true."

"I think we all know someone who would be more then happy to refute that statement." Gale smiled unabashedly.

"Happy to assist." Clove and Pearl laughed, while Glimmer only shrugged. Marvel looked faintly amused, while Cato was just flat out bored.

"Anyone want to play a game?" Cato suggested.

"Aren't we all a little old for games?" Replied Rivvet.

"Not for another three months," interjected Gale. The Careers laughed. "What game do you want to play?"

"It's called Terrify the Tribute."

"Don't you think it's a little early for that Cato?" Clove yawned, but something was off about it. "They'll be too sleepy to be any fun."

"Don't be a kill joy Clove. It's a fun game." Gale wasn't a huge fan of combining the words Cato and fun, but he decided to play along.

"How do you play?"

"Well first off, you pick at tribute, and then you—" Cato broke off and made a sudden lunge at Rivett, who tried to jump back. He would have succeeded, but Clove had come around the side to trip him up. He landed with a thud and a confused expression, and the group erupted in laughter.

"You're right, that is a fun game." Gale smiled. It was strange to see such deadly teens having a moment of childish glee. Yes, it was at the expense of another human being, but Gale wasn't fond of Rivvet in the first place. A trainer appeared at Gale's shoulder to break up the merriment.

"Contact between tributes is strictly forbidden." The man was small, but had an imposing presence. That did nothing to stop Cato and Clove.

"I didn't even touch him." Cato was still smiling, but Clove was a better actress.

"It's not _my_ fault that he tripped over me. I was just minding my own business when he backed into me." Gale nodded fervently in confirmation, along with everyone except Rivvet himself, who sulked in the background.

"See that it doesn't happen again." He would have been intimidating had Pearl not been mimicking him behind his back. As it was, barely concealed smiles greeted him. The man gave them a hard look and walked away.

"It's not like we even hurt him. Honestly, these people need to loosen up." Gale nodded in agreement.

"Anyone else have a suggestion that doesn't involve breaking the rules?" Marvel spoke sarcastically, but the question was still valid.

"We can always play a name game," joked Gale when no ideas were forthcoming.

"Hi, I'm Clove. I like knives, hurting people, and long walks in the park." Clove's answer was delivered with such enthusiasm and cheer that a few heads turned their way. More heads turned when the Careers snickered in response. There was a pause afterwards, but Pearl stepped in next.

"I'm Pearl. I like fishing, throwing spears, and swimming." Gale knew he wasn't the only one to realize that the first thing to jump to Pearl's mind was as mundane as fishing. He made careful note of everyone else's answers.

Glimmer went next, with "I'm Glimmer, and I like maces, arrows, and makeup," to which Gale couldn't help but reply, "I'm Gale, and I like Glimmer. Also hunting and shooting." Laughter followed, but it died down quickly as Marvel went next.

"I'm Marvel, and I like spears, knives, and running." Marvel was quickly followed by Rivvet, who mumbled, "I'm Rivvet, and I like sailing, spearing, and swimming."

"This is the dumbest idea I've ever heard of."

"Come on Cato, don't be a kill joy," said Clove.

"We're not twelve."

"I am."

"Shut up Gale." Cato rolled his eyes. "This was a stupid idea."

"Please Cato." Glimmer made puppy-dog eyes at him, and Cato looked back like he had smelled something foul.

"Way to ruin the fun," she replied once she saw the futility of her efforts.

It took a few more minutes coaxing, along with numerous threats, but eventually they were able to convince Cato to spit out, "Spears, swords, maces." It wasn't elegant, but it was close enough. And it managed to kill some time. They had just finished when one of the uniformed people of the Capitol got their attention. He listed some rules, but Gale ignored him for the most part. It was nothing he didn't already know. Gale instead focused on quieting his nerves and thinking about shooting properly. He had glanced at the archery station briefly, and all of the bows looked different from the familiar, more natural ones Katniss's dad had crafted. He would just have to make do.

The Careers eagerly set out the moment they were released, and each stalked to the area that interested them most, claiming their territory. They each mumbled excuses about determining what shoddy equipment they would be expected to work with. This gave Gale enough time to rush over to the bow and arrow station for a few practice shots before anyone started paying attention to him. The bow fired differently, but after only few minutes Gale felt confident again. He wasn't as good as with his own bow, but he could tell from the looks he was getting from the man working the booth that he was still doing fine. Gale could also tell just by the way it shot that the bow he was holding was much more powerful than the ones made by Katniss's father. It made sense and was a definite advantage, but Gale couldn't help resenting it a little.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gale saw Cato stop inspecting the practice swords and join up with Clove who was also done. He waved them over, and looked to see if the other Careers were finished. Glimmer and Marvel were walking over from the mace section, and Pearl was just behind them, spear in tow. A nervous aide followed her, but was too intelligent to ask for it back. Rivvet was still inspecting some deadly looking tridents across the room, but no one cared enough to suggest waiting for him.

"Alright 12, let's see what you've got." Gale could tell Cato had never accepted him into the group, and had regarded him as some plaything of Glimmer's. Gale's charisma and confidence had been unanticipated, but judging by Cato's cruel smile, he was looking foreword to putting Gale back in his place. Gale could only smile; Cato was in for a rough surprise.

"Well, I'll have to warn you these bows are a little different from the ones I usually use, so my aim may be a little off." Cato smirked, and gestured for him to continue. The others watched in detached interest.

Gale's the remnants from Gale's previous attempts had luckily been cleared, so all the Careers would see was his successful shots. Gale smiled to himself before shooting at the farthest target. His arrow hit in one of the corners, far away from the center. The Careers snickered. Gale released another arrow. It too landed far from the bulls eye, and the Careers were becoming more noticeable in their laughter. Even Glimmer was amused, and he made a mental not to rely on her to back him in the future. He then shot five more bolts in very quick succession; his audience barely had time to see one land before another was on its way. Gale stopped shooting, but it took them several seconds to understand what they were looking at. The arrows had suddenly arranged themselves into a macabre smile, each bolt placed with incredible precision. Glimmer recovered first.

"Well, Gale. Looks like you are decent with a bow." They all looked at the target again, and Gale noticed that the Gamemakers had started watching as well. Even better. Several of the Gamemakers clapped and Gale took a little bow, before emulating the target.

"Yeah, I got a little bored with bull's eyes." Clove, Glimmer, and Pearl smiled, but Cato remained unconvinced. Marvel, too, gave no visible acknowledgement, but that was to be expected.

"You're in." Was all he said before stalking back to the swords. The other Careers dispersed as Gale turned back to the shooting range and the assistant.

"Do you mind tossing something up for me to shoot? I want to work on moving targets."

* * *

><p>Gale spent almost an hour shooting, both for personal enjoyment, and to daunt the other tributes. He quickly tired of the plain targets, and even the clay birds the assistant brought out grew tedious. After he decided to shoot one of the dummies Cato was butchering, Gale was given a strict lecture that the arrows were to be kept inside the station, so he wasn't able to amuse himself by shooting near unsuspecting people. Glimmer joined him for a bit, but it was clear she was less than talented. Her form was decent, but she was oddly lacking in practice. They flirted outrageously, but Glimmer looked a bit distant. They were like bad actors, reciting lines from a play. The words were there, but emotion was eerily absent. The other Careers spent most of their time at their own specialties, and Gale wondered if he should go by the knife station. He wasn't quite as good as Clove, but displaying some talent with a secondary, close combat, weapon could gain him more points from the Gamemakers. Gale knew he wouldn't have time to demonstrate it during his private session.<p>

A tribute from nine, one of the older girls, tried to shakily copy him, but her attempts bordered on pathetic. Gale conveniently forgot about the several times he had almost accidentally shot Katniss when she first gave him a bow. Katniss had always been better than him at shooting. She had been learning for a few years longer than Gale, but it was something more than that. Katniss didn't look complete without her bow by her side. Gale saw the bow as a weapon, a means to an end, and took comfort only in its protection. For Katniss on the other hand, it was all second nature. The bow was a part of her. She shot the eyes out of squirrels from yards away and thought nothing of it. Gale knew she could split an arrow right down the center with another, and didn't like to only because she thought it a waste. Gale was an excellent archer. Katniss was something else. But Gale knew how to make up for it in other ways. A clean kill through the eye of a squirrel or rabbit was nice, but strangling it with a snare leaving no visible marks on the pelt was even better.

Gale meandered over to the knife station. He nodded to Clove distractedly, and began throwing knives into targets methodically. A good number of them bounced off as he got the angles wrong, but many more stuck than didn't, and his aim was good. Knife work was one thing he had always been better at than Katniss. It was usually he who ended a struggling prey's life with a throw, and he was quicker than Katniss in cleaning their smaller kills. Katniss was happy with any hit using just a knife. Gale knew where the vital organs were and honed in on them. He had nothing on Clove, of course, but the practice gave him a bit more security. Although it was unlikely that the Gamemakers would fail to include a bow after his display, it was still possible, and Gale was glad to have other means of defending himself.

Gale started a conversation about the pros and cons of throwing a knife vs. keeping it when the enemy was in close range. He learned she was more of a fan of close combat, which didn't surprise him, and made a mental note to throw his knife before she got the chance to butcher him if they ever got into a fight. He pretended to concede the debate for the sake of not giving away all of his secrets. He and Clove also bonded over ridiculing the tributes just learning how to use knives. Gale once again pushed down his feelings of guilt, and put on as cruel a front as he could safely manage. Clove accepted it without question, and Gale realized that since they were used to being around heartless bastards constantly, it would make them unsuspecting of his true plans. Not that his true plans required any shortage of backstabbing viciousness, as Gale reminded himself.

They were called to lunch, and Gale instinctively helped himself to familiar rolls and meats, and saw the others do the same around him. It appeared even Careers liked the reminder of home, if only subconsciously. Gale flirted and joked throughout the meal, as the girls feigned jealousy whenever he turned his attentions to someone other than themselves. Cato looked on in slight disgust, but Gale could occasionally catch Marvel smiling out of the corner of his eye. The girls were having a good time, pretending to squabble and making empty, or not so empty, threats. Rivvet said nothing and quietly ate his food. He more then anyone had stuck only to district staples, and Gale wondered briefly why he had even volunteered before turning his thoughts to less morbid subjects.

Gale was surprised at how normal the teens appeared. They laughed, they joked. This really was all one big game to them. The most important game of their lives. Only occasionally did their true nature shine through the cracks in their carefully cultivated masks. These lapses in attention took the form of serious statements of their first target. The odd comment about how much fun they would have. They had been trained to act normal for the cameras but Gale could see how messed up they were mentally. He wondered if only people who were already disturbed volunteered for training, or if the training conditioned them to act the way they did. He was leaning toward the latter, given Rivvet's general malaise and disinterest in violence. Gale could easily imagine him leading a simple life, fishing for the Capitol. In other circumstances Gale would probably have liked him best, stupid though he was. But this was the Games, and everyone's worth in Gale's eyes was calculated based solely on their usefulness to him.

Cato interrupted Gale's musings. "What do you think about 11?"

The Careers' demeanor changed from joking to intent. "I don't know Cato, eight may be too many." Glimmer's eyes flicked to Rivvet, who didn't seem to notice. Gale could see Cato, Clove and Marvel nod minutely, and quickly followed suit. Pearl eventually agreed, but didn't seem happy about it. It looked like Rivvet was out of the pack, and therefore had to die.

"Aside from numbers, do you think he'd even want to join?" The Careers looked at Gale in surprise, as though the thought had not crossed their minds. "You Careers aren't liked much in the upper districts, myself excepting."

"Why not? It's not like you couldn't train your own tributes too." The more time Gale spent with the Careers, the more inclined he was to agree with them, but he pushed the thought aside to think about later. He needed to put all his focus into lying. Gale grimaced in response to Pearl's question.

"I don't know about other districts, but Haymitch made it pretty clear he wouldn't help volunteers. Wouldn't train them, wouldn't make deals with sponsors, wouldn't assist them in the arena. He's barely helping me now as it is."

"Wait, your mentor refuses to help people who might actually stand a chance? No wonder your district hasn't won in twenty five years!" Glimmer looked like she wished she could have bitten back her last statement, but Gale brushed off her apologetic look.

"It's true. There are some of us who would be more than inclined to participate, but not if it means losing a mentor. Not even the escorts can seal deals with sponsors, and none of us want to risk going it alone."

"So your mentor may not help you?" Cato was calculating in his question, and Gale knew he was weighing his usefulness, but he feigned innocence.

"He should, since I didn't strictly speaking volunteer, but you can bet he's been paying much more attention to April." Gale mocked her name in an endearing tone, and the Careers easily bought it. He could see them glance at each other, much like they had with Rivvet, but they quickly decided to keep him, just like they knew they would. An unhelpful mentor would just be an advantage for them later in the Games, and they could give him stuff if they really wanted to. "Anyway, weren't we talking about 11?"

The Careers got back on track. "He looks strong, but I don't know about weapons," was Marvel's comment.

"Is strong," Pearl corrected "he joined me at the weights for a bit. And the Gamemakers were taking note of him, so he'll get a decent score."

"But do we really need him? It might just be better to let him take out a few tributes on his own. Besides, I don't think he's a threat to us no matter how good he is." Gale's plan relied upon getting through more than a few days with the Career group intact. And the odds of that happening decreased with each person they added.

"Of course he wouldn't be a threat. The question is, would he help us enough for it to be worth it?" Cato looked a little irritated, probably at the idea that someone from the districts could prove a threat.

"What could he bring to the group that we don't already have?" countered Gale. "Together we've got swords, maces, knives, spears, and arrows. What could he possibly bring us?" Cato looked like he was deciding between disagreeing with Gale just to disagree, and agreeing with Gale because he didn't want anyone else from the lower districts in the Career group.

"Seven should be more than enough," interjected Marvel with utter sincerity. Clove smiled back at the joke.

"I agree. Let's leave him alone at the Cornucopia, so long as he doesn't attack us, and deal with him after the Games have gone on a while. But if he gets a nine or higher, then I say we take him out first thing."

"Agreed."

They chatted aimlessly for a short while longer until lunch was over. Gale went back to the bow and arrow station, and did his best to look menacing. He wasn't bored, per say, but he was starting to grow anxious for the day to end. There were only so many times he could destroy the same target over and over. But he had no other skills left that he wanted the Careers to see. Gale took the opportunity to observe his opponents some more.

Thresh was using a club to behead some poor dummies. His technique was shaky, but he more then made up for it in raw power. Gale shuddered internally at the thought of going up against him in close combat. He made a mental note to put an arrow in him as soon as possible. Other than Thresh however, none of the other tributes looked remotely intimidating. Most were attempting to learn the basics of a weapon, but a few were smart enough to realize that two days of training wouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things. The crippled boy from ten, who looked to be about two years younger than him, was busy learning how to camouflage himself. A girl, whose name Gale thought was Vix, spent most of her time learning edible plants. The tiny girl from 11, whose name Gale had deliberately ignored, was sitting on top of the climbing area, watching everything. The girl made eye contact with Gale, but quickly looked away.

Gale turned and refocused on his bow and arrow. A boy stood next to him, trying pitifully to shoot the target in front of him. If he were anywhere else, Gale would have helped him, but instead Gale just sneered. The boy shied away, and within a few minutes left the station. The trainer gave him a dirty look, which Gale returned when he realized the only reason the trainer cared was because he, too, was bored and wanted something to do. He had nothing to teach Gale, and after his initial admiration he had turned sour at being shown up. Gale pretended he didn't exist for the most part, a task made easier after the man decided to take a nap.

Clove showed up about an hour before the end of training. She wasn't very good, and Gale pretended to take great pleasure in teaching her. Most of Gale's teaching methods involved getting very close to her and carefully rearranging her body with his own. This made the newly awakened instructor frown more, but Gale didn't care. He and Clove had a good time, surprisingly, bantering back and forth and teasing each other mercilessly. Gale noticed Cato stab a dummy in a particularly vicious manner out of the corner of his eye. After that he watched Cato closely, unbeknownst to Clove. The closer Gale got to her, the angrier Cato became. Gale filed this little tidbit away, and made a mental note to stay farther away from Clove in the future. Glimmer and Pearl would serve well enough as objects of his fictitious affection.

Clove left very close to closing time, and the bell rang just as Gale finished thoroughly demolishing yet another target. He walked slowly to the gathering area in front of the elevators. Most of the trainers were conversing in a small huddle, faces contorted in grimaces and grins alike, and Gale quickly swiped a large amount of wire from the snare table before shoving it under his shirt.

He shook his head in amazement that no one had ever thought to steal weapons from the training area and sneak them into the Games. Despite the near constant surveillance, hardly anyone paid attention to any one tribute's individual actions. The best technology didn't stop inattentive or bored guards from ruining the system. There were also plenty of places to hide things in the rooms, and as long as whatever was stolen was small and the outfits they were given weren't skin-tight, the maneuver would be simple. Gale barely refrained from snagging an additional knife, but there was no reason to make the Capitol any more his enemy. Maybe it wasn't so strange after all that no one had done it. The people of the districts were already conditioned to avoid doing anything that could possibly anger the Capitol.

Gale rode the elevator with Pearl, Marvel and Glimmer. They made idle chatter for most of the short ride, but soon Gale was alone. He looked past the cameras he knew were concealed somewhere in the deceitful air and out into the city. It was brimming with stunning architecture, and even more stunning people. The city was filled with movement and chaos and life. Compared with the dull grey city and dull grey people of district 12, this vibrant metropolis was like a rainbow breaking through storm clouds. The city was alive and the people were happy. It would be so easy to forget all of the suffering that was required for it to function. Gale turned away. He wished he was still innocent, naive, or stupid enough to be able to admire the city. But all he saw in the bright lights was the coal needed to produce them. All he saw in the colorful people was the contrast to the suffering back home. All he saw in the exotic pets was the numbers of starving children that would have killed to get the spoiled treatment heaped upon the animals. This place wasn't a paradise to him, it was Hell. And the happiness of its other inhabitants was the worst part.

He was in a foul mood by the time he got off on his floor, despite the successes of the day. He realized part of it was exhaustion, but he had other things to do before he retired. Haymitch greeted him the moment the elevator doors closed, asking him what had happened. "They accepted me. I'm a Career now." Haymitch smiled grimly.

"Congrats kid." He offered Gale a sip from the flask Effie had insisted he carry his alcohol in when meeting with sponsors. Gale took it.

"I told them you refuse to help any Careers. They bought it pretty easily, and I needed an excuse for not volunteering," he summarized quickly taking a sip from the flask and handing it back. Haymitch collapsed onto the couch, and weighed the container in his hand thoughtfully.

"It should work. Sometimes being known as a crazy bastard is useful. Plan on telling me what you're going to do in your private session?" His momentarily civilized air disappeared quickly as Haymitch retreated into his generic irritable self.

"No, I already know you won't approve, but it's something I need to do."

"Don't be a fucking dumbass. I'm trying to help you Gale, and if you mess up your chances-"

"I'll be fine. They already like me because of a stunt I pulled when showing the others I'm not incompetent with a bow. Besides it's my life I'm betting on this, not yours." Haymitch was for once speechless. It didn't last long.

"You're right. It is your life. Waste it. Do whatever the fuck you want with it."

"Just trust me alright. I know what I'm doing." Haymitch gave a deep laugh.

"You sound just like I did in my Games. And that's not a good thing."

"You won, didn't you?"

"I guess I did." Gale threw up his hands in exasperation.

"This is going nowhere. I've got a plan, I'm seeing it through, and I'm not telling you. There's nothing to argue about." He took a step for the door before Haymitch stopped him.

"What stunt did you pull at the bow station?"

"Nothing much. Just shot the arrows so it looked like a smile instead of aiming for the bull's-eye. It made it look like I was more accurate since the first couple were so far off by comparison. Showing a person something bad before something adequate makes them think better of the adequate thing. Besides, I thought it'd fit in with my character."

"I'm sure none of it had to do with showing off."

"It had everything to do with showing off. That's the whole point." Haymitch rolled his eyes.

"You're more like the person you're pretending to be then you think Gale. Make sure you know the difference."

"I've got it handled."

"Make sure you do." Gale left, and this time Haymitch didn't call him back. He sat in his room for the next thirty minutes, fiddling with the wire he had stolen. He had already formed a rough plan with how to bend it, but his view of the training room made him re-think a few vital details. After several irritating minutes reconfiguring the final knot, Gale walked through the living room to the elevator, ignoring Haymitch's questions. He hit the T for training room, and waited with a smile as he glided down the stories. Yes, what he was planning was a bad idea, but the satisfaction would be worth it. The risk was too high for his liking, but the payoff was far too tempting for him to avoid taking it. He was about to be given a once in a lifetime chance to show the Gamemakers what he was fully capable of, and he wasn't going to waste it.

* * *

><p><strong>I spend over six hours writing and editing, you spend 30 seconds reviewing. Deal? -Terence<strong>


	6. Bibamus, moriendum est

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>6. Bibamus, moriendum est.<strong>

He returned to the room after his illicit trip just in time to sit down before Effie called them to dinner. Haymitch thankfully didn't mention his absence, and instead they passed the meal discussing April. Gale hadn't paid much attention to her during training, but the detail with which they went over every little minute occurrence more than compensated for it. She had apparently made an unsteady alliance with the tributes from six. Haymitch and Gale thought it wouldn't last, but Effie applauded her effort. Gale morbidly wondered how Effie would be able to complement April when she lay sullying the arena's ground with her blood after some tribute inevitably hacked her to pieces.

Gale forced himself to eat as much of the delicious food as possible. He could barely stomach it after his earlier reflections, but he knew it would be stupid to turn his nose up at food. After it became clear that the next several hours would be consumed with analyzing the ways April could forestall death, Gale tossed his napkin onto the table.

"Gale?" Effie glanced confusedly at his breach in decorum.

"I'm done with this. See you in the morning." Gale rushed back to his room and began to pace. A fight was approaching, and there was nothing to do but wait. He wanted to scream. This was different from the tense moments on the hunt when he could calmly freeze for hours until the moment to strike. Here, he wasn't the predator, he was prey, and for the first time in his life Gale understood why partridges immediately took flight at the slightest sound. Why they revealed themselves, panicking and loud, only to be shot down in the open air. It was a primitive fear, and all the more powerful because of it. He couldn't be rational, couldn't think, and it only threw him into further chaos.

He wanted to run away, but there was nowhere to go. Gale was trapped, and like a hare thrashing to free itself from the iron clutches of one of his snares, he knew there was no escape. For one childish moment, Gale wanted to kick a wall and deny his situation. Wanted to bury his head, and pretend nothing had happened. Refuse to compete. The urge to run away from his problems had occasionally taken him at home, but never to such a degree. Gale had once made the mistake of mentioning his irritation at his role to Katniss, but her sharp rebuke had quickly silenced him. Even that fateful morning before the reaping, when he had casually mentioned ditching, she had forced practicality and responsibility into the situation. Her determination to protect Prim, and to a lesser extent her mother, was admirable, however it grew on Gale's nerves. Sometimes, it helped to be a kid again, but here, when his entire circumstance hinged on his youth, Gale couldn't find a moment to be selfish.

There were no relatively innocent friends to blow off steam fighting. No girls to distract himself with, or parties where he could drink himself into oblivion. The closest he had to friends he could relax around were the Careers, and there were Peacekeepers he trusted more than them. Except, he wasn't looking for some deep emotional commitment. Gale was looking for pure, shallow, unadulterated, stress relief. A place where he could forget what was going on, and dick around for a few hours. This _was_ the Capitol, if anyone would approve of his train of thought, they should. Gale smiled. It was probably breaking dozens of rules, but he didn't really care, and something told him, neither would they.

Gale glanced around the room, eyes quickly alighting on a small box meant for ordering food. He had previously ignored it on principle, but now he looked closer. A small menu was displayed, and Gale quickly turned to the 'drinks' section. He ordered two bottles of flamer, which appeared with little hesitation, before flicking through the sections to find the district 1, 2, and 4 equivalent. Gale ordered these too, and was just turning to the section on beers, when a light knock sounded on his door. Busted. Gale didn't bother trying to hide the bottles, praying his intruder was Haymitch rather than Effie. His guest was neither, and Gale awkwardly let an avox into his room.

"Umm." Gale cursed his inarticulateness, but he couldn't think of a reasonable explanation. The man didn't respond, only stood blankly. "Look, if you'll excuse me, I'm just ordering some drinks for a few friends." The avox only responded with a condescending look, and gestured to a tray in his hands. "Oh. Thanks." Gale quickly ordered, and helped the avox load the bottles, along with some randomly selected juices. "Just take these up to the roof." The man left before Gale could thank him. He shrugged, before exiting his room and slinking to the elevator. Thankfully, his fellow tribute and the adults were too busy planning to hear him, and even the light ding as the elevator arrived did not cause a blip in their conversation.

He entered as the doors opened, pushing both the button for the first floor, as well as one which looked like it would close the doors faster. He found himself bouncing slightly, as the scenery rushed passed in his regulated fall, and schooled himself. The Careers from one would only laugh in his face if he looked even slightly uncertain about his plan. If they thought he was just being a lower class idiot, he would lose a lot of respect.

Gale wondered at the lack of security as the elevator glided to a stop without a hitch and the doors opened. A mentor was sitting on one of the couches, and Gale faintly recognized him from some re-runs of a Game almost a dozen years previous. The man looked up brow furrowed in surprise and confusion. Gale knew it would be best to speak first.

"I was wondering if Marvel and Glimmer wanted to spend a night of fun in the Capitol." Gale smirked mischievously. "I'll be inviting districts 2 and 4 also, of course." The man's expression remained befuddled, but luckily Marvel rounded a corner.

"Gale?"

"Hello, Marvel. I was bored and wondering if any of you lower district tributes felt like having a bit of a party." Marvel recovered quickly.

"Sounds like a plan, although I don't know if it's legal." Marvel shrugged and called out to Glimmer. By this time his mentor had regained his power of speech.

"How do I know you aren't planning on starting the s a little early?" His suspicion was justified, but Gale only laughed easily.

"And get myself killed? That's a little too much excitement for me." Another, older, female mentor entered the room, Glimmer in tow.

"What's this all about?" the woman asked. She was much sharper then her partner, but Gale only counted that as a downside. At least Marvel seemed on his side.

"Gale just wanted to see if Glimmer and I would like to join him for a night of fun in the Capitol." Glimmer's face lit up before she quickly repressed her smile. The female mentor looked like she wanted to object but couldn't find a good reason.

"I don't think putting a bunch of drunk tributes together is such a good idea."

"Stop being so paranoid, Ruby, we'll manage. And there won't be weapons within easy reach anyway." Glimmer dismissed her mentor's concerns, and Gale could tell at least one of the district one tributes would be joining him with or without their mentor's consent. Ruby conceded a little.

"Fine, but I'm coming with you. Then things won't get out of hand." She shot Gale a glare. Things weren't going as planned, and he didn't need a nagging old mentor ruining his last day of fun. Surprisingly, the male mentor seemed to agree with Gale. He laughed at his partner.

"They don't want you at their party Ruby. They're going to have fun, not sit around knitting." Ruby looked adamant. "Fine, we'll give them a chaperone." He turned to Gale. "They can go, but take Finnick Odair with you. I doubt he'll ruin your party." The man winked, and Gale found himself reluctantly liking him. Then he recognized the wink as the same one he had seen given by a tribute in a replay, right before he cleaved his district partner's head open with an axe. His affection for the man dimmed, but not necessarily his respect. Glimmer and Marvel hopped into the elevator before their mentors had time to change their mind.

"Excellent idea, Gale, I haven't been able to go to _any_ parties for about a year. Damn trainers." Marvel was less vocal then Glimmer, but he seemed to be excited as well.

"Unfortunately we'll have to invite Rivvet as well, I don't see any way around it."

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he won't want to come," Glimmer returned hopefully.

The next stop was level two, and Clove was already in the sitting room.

"What are you all doing here?" Gale wondered if it might be easier to just grab her and uninvite Cato, but decided against it. No need to make Cato hate him even more.

"We decided to have a party. Although I don't know how we'll get alcohol." She shot Gale a questioning look.

"Already had an avox get it. One plus of having a drunken idiot for a mentor is that no-one questions all the booze you bring." Glimmer turned back to Clove, satisfied.

"Then get Cato and let's go." Clove recovered from the momentary surprise at their intrusion with a wicked smile.

"Smart thinking, who's idea was this?" Glimmer rolled her eyes.

"Who do _you_ think?" Gale smiled in false modesty.

"I don't know if I want to go to any party some trash from 12's throwing," Clove teased.

"It shouldn't be too dull, their mentor insisted we invite Finnick Odair." Clove raised an eyebrow.

"That _would_ liven things up." Clove turned and called for Cato and their mentors. After some debate, and many insistences that a mentor was chaperoning, they were allowed to go. It was lucky that the Capitol had a desire to make everything much bigger and more ornate then necessary, or else the elevator would have begun to feel cramped. It was only a short ride to four, and Gale could feel excitement building. These weren't exactly people who were allowed to party often, and Gale was looking forward to getting everyone good and wasted.

When the elevator dinged at four, no one was in the room. Gale called out, and a woman in her seventies answered. She sized them up and shouted out for Finnick and Pearl. They arrived and she turned to Finnick.

"I'm getting too old for this. You handle whatever they need." She walked away, leaving Pearl and Finnick.

"We were just wondering if you wanted to join us for a little party." Gale gestured at the drinks and the other Careers. "You too Finnick, the mentors from one and two wanted a chaperone." Gale did his best to appear apologetic, but Finnick didn't seem to mind.

"I'm always up for a party. Unfortunately Rivvet went to bed, but I can go wake him up if you want." They reassured him that it wasn't necessary a little too quickly, but Finnick's smiling reply of, "If you insist," contained only the faintest remains of disappointment.

Pearl and Finnick boarded the elevator, and it was only then that Cato thought to ask the pertinent question.

"Gale, where exactly are we having this party?"

"I'm thinking the roof, but if ends up being stupid we'll just go to my floor or something. We'll have to invite April, but Haymitch won't care." They chattered aimlessly until they reached the roof. The tributes got progressively louder as the elevator rose, and Gale had a sneaking suspicion that camera crews had realized something was happening and had started following them. The Capitol always loves a good scandal, he acknowledged grudgingly.

The doors to the elevator opened out into fresh air, and the Careers and former Career poured out. Several chairs and a table had been set out among the gardens, but Gale was surprised to see several people already there. He glanced to the others, and, to everyone's astonishment Cato shrugged. "Seven people isn't much of a party." He turned to the few loners in the garden. "If any of you are over fifteen, you're welcome to join us. Otherwise get the hell out." Short, but to the point.

Two of the younger kids skittered to the elevator, which couldn't seem to come fast enough, but and older boy and girl approached them. They were both hesitant, as if wary of some new trick, and Gale wondered belatedly if inviting them would just make things more awkward. The girl was from nine, and Gale thought the boy was from five but he wasn't certain. They hadn't come from the same side of the garden, so Gale doubted they knew each other.

"Let's make this a real party," said Gale. He turned to the avox. "We're probably going to need a lot more alcohol. Gale reached his hand in and stopped the elevator, much to the dismay of the younger tributes. "Are either of your partners sixteen or older?"

"Mable's sixteen." The smaller boy spoke up first, but the other followed soon after, jolted into speech.

"And Velvet's eighteen." Gale smiled kindly at them, for the first time.

"Tell them to come on up. Actually," Gale paused for a moment searching for something he could give them. "I'll ignore the both of you at the Cornucopia if you go to each of the other floors and send up anyone over fifteen. Tell them a mentor's chaperoning." The boys' faces lit up, and they each hastily agreed. Gale turned back to the older tributes, and shrugged at the Careers. "I didn't promise anything for you lot." He replied to their questioning looks. He then ignored them and turned to the older, upper district tributes. "What are your names again?"

"I'm Flax. Nice to meet you all." He was still guarded, but wasn't as hesitant as the girl.

"Briseis," was all she answered. There was an awkward pause, and Gale felt obligated to speak, as it was his party.

"I'll probably have to say this again when the others come, but I intend this to be a night to forget about the Games. Let's just have one night in the Capitol to get completely wasted. Now, who's up for a drinking game?" Gale smirked as devilishly as he could. Despite his claims of forgetting everything, he still had to remain in character.

"We're not playing Flamer, Gale. I'm supposed to be chaperoning."

"Finnick Odair not up for a drinking game?" exclaimed Pearl with false surprise. Finnick rolled his eyes.

"I've played drinking Games from twelve, and not one of them has ended without someone getting hurt."

"Aww, that's just because you're no good at them." Finnick was right, but Gale knew it wouldn't be him getting injured, so he pushed on.

"How can you get hurt in a drinking game?" inquired Clove, interest piqued. Gale smiled.

"I'll give a demonstration." He grabbed two shot glasses from the table, and at Finnick's glance, he added, "Round one's boring anyway." A fire was already burning in an alcove, so Gale used tongs to carry the burning wood out into the open. "For each round you are given one shot of Flamer more then the last round. You can drink as much of it as you want, but whatever you don't consume, you have to pour into the fire as you jump over it." Gale didn't pause to look at their reactions, and instead took the first shot. It burned his throat, but he ignored it as he jumped over the fire. There was an art to it, one that Gale, and most other teens in the Seam had perfected, but Gale made sure to cut it a little close, although the flame had barely risen a few inches. Half the fun of drinking Games was wasted if you weren't showing off. He turned back, and the tributes stared back, impressed at either his skill or his stupidity. "It starts getting real exciting around rounds eight or nine when the flames starting getting huge." Clove laughed.

"No wonder there hasn't been a Victor from twelve in so long. All your bravest teens get themselves killed in drinking Games."

"Why'd the flames get so big anyway?"

"They add something. That's why it's called Flamer."

"You put in stuff _intentionally_ to make the fire get bigger. My respect for your district has gone _way_ up," laughed Pearl.

She was still chortling as Finnick ruined the fun by taking away the glasses.

"Like I said. Vetoed. I'm not having your mentors on my ass because you decided to act like idiots and got burned. Any _other_ suggestions?" They were interrupted by the elevator. Seven tributes spilled out, as did an avox with more drinks. "Thanks for joining the party. It hasn't really started yet, but lets get some drinks, shall we?" Gale was happy to turn to role of host over to Finnick. He instead helped some of the less experienced drinkers get something, but unsurprisingly, most already had their favorites in mind. They eventually settled on something called Gems, played in the capitol and in district seven by another name. Someone would call out an article of clothing, and everyone would group according to color. They then had to drink according to how many people were wearing the same thing. Gale thought it rather dull, but he supposed it would have been more fun if he had actually cared about fashion before arriving at the Capitol.

The tributes became steadily more intoxicated as the night wore on, and Gale was amused to see some of the quieter, smaller, more defenseless looking tributes gain confidence. They chattered endlessly as the alcohol loosened their tongues, but luckily the drinking games had ensured no one was sober enough to take advantage of the fact. Merry especially, the girl from 10, got extremely talkative, and started hitting on Cato, of all people. Gale laughed outright as she daringly planted a large kiss on his lips, as he stood back baffled. This led to a large number of wolf whistles, and catcalls; Gale joined in enthusiastically. Gale himself ducked out with Glimmer for about half an hour somewhere in the middle, and he saw Marvel do the same with the tribute from 3.

They played a Game of Bravery, which resulted in most tributes sporting various states of undress. It ended after Merry went down on Briseis from 9, a feat no one was willing to replicate or surpass. At two or three the night toned down for a bit when they played a game of Haves and Haven'ts. Gale learned several interesting things about his fellow tributes, not the least of which was that half the Careers were still virgins, and that only him and the district ten tributes had ever killed anything bigger than a rabbit. Not completely relevant, but interesting none the less.

While their party was never interrupted by interviewers, Gale knew most of it had probably been broadcasted around the Capitol. Their location on the roof didn't exactly make them invisible. The night only wound down around 3:30 or 4:00, after much dancing, many drunken hook-ups, and more nudity then Gale thought had ever been shown before the Games had even started. He could easily see this becoming part of the Hunger Games tradition, judging by the sheer number of cameras he could see flickering between him and the few visible stars. Gale was almost the last to leave, and he waved a feeble goodbye to a smug Finnick. Age and several years full of experience had left Finnick much more capable of holding his liquor then Gale.

The journey to bed was mostly a blur, but the following morning Gale vaguely remembered saying a slurred thank you to Haymitch, and taking several minutes to work out the handle on his door. The floor swayed, and Gale tripped onto his bed. It was too much effort to crawl under the covers, so Gale simply passed out where he was, and only woke once morning had come.

* * *

><p><strong>Review! -Terence<strong>


	7. Fas est ab hoste doceri

**Sorry to anyone who's reviews I didn't reply to. I'll try to send messages out soon, and I still really appreciate the time you spent reviewing. I've been busy, but here's the next chapter.**

* * *

><p><strong>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C<br>C C** 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>7. Fas est et ab hoste doceri<strong>

He was roused by Effie Trinket's voice, sounding thousands of times more shrill as it pierced his aching skull than it ever had before. He glanced at the clock and shot out of bed. Training had started ten minutes ago. Gale bolted into the shower, and hurriedly washed the stench from the previous night's adventure off of himself. He threw on the clothes that had been laid out for him, and darted out to breakfast, thankful he had already set up his snares.

He rushed into the dinning area, intent on grabbing a roll before sprinting downstairs, but to his surprise April, Haymitch, and Effie, were sitting peacefully enjoying their food. They turned and looked at him, and Haymitch laughed at Gale's appearance.

"Have fun last night?" Gale was too irritated already to be aggravated by Haymitch's taunt.

"Aren't we supposed to be in training?" Gale glanced at the clock. "As of twenty minutes ago." Effie shook her head, and Haymitch barked out another laugh.

"They moved it all back an hour once they realized half the tributes would be staying up until four o'clock in the morning." Effie looked pleased, but was desperately trying to repress it. "It was horribly irresponsible of you to have started that, but you've been the talk of the entire city." Effie's eyes shone. "Everyone watched last night. I wouldn't be surprised if you started a tradition!" Effie was clearly thrilled by the prospect. "You wouldn't believe how shocked we were to turn on the television last night and see you all up on the roof."

"I told you most of this last night, but I'm not too surprised you don't remember. At least you didn't make any more of a fool of yourself than anyone else on camera." Gale briefly reflected on a point late in the night when Merry had ordered a pole and began sloppily dancing on it. "Anyway sit down and eat something before you head down to training." Gale poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed some simple breads. His stomach still wasn't sitting quite right, but luckily Haymitch had slipped him a pill once he sat down. Gale's headache vanished almost instantly, and he found himself in a much better mood. He privately thanked whoever invented pills to kill hangovers, even if they were from the Capitol.

Breakfast was consumed mostly in silence, and Gale shoveled everything he could down his throat. Over the past few days he had settled on a favorite breakfast. Pancakes covered in a dark brown sweet sauce covered in strawberries settled for his usual main dish, with rolls on the side to round things out. Bacon was another of his favorites, the Capitol variety tasting inevitably superior to the meat he had occasionally sampled when they brought down a wild boar.

Gale went down to the training area fifteen minutes before it was required. April stayed to talk with Effie, presumably planning some aspect of what talent she would show the Gamemakers. Gale's plan would involve enacting a long-thought out daydream, and while it wasn't a good idea, he would regret it forever if he didn't do it.

Few people were waiting around when Gale arrived, and none had come to his party. The only person over fifteen was the hulking tribute from 11, Thresh. Gale nodded at him, but received only rock-hard silence in answer. Gale lounged until some of the other Careers showed. He conversed amicably with Pearl as Rivvet lurked next to them for several minutes, and was even able to hold a conversation with Cato about knives that didn't end in threats. Gale and the other Careers weren't exactly friends, but they were tied together by circumstance for at least the next few days. Gale still held no delusions that they would hesitate eviscerating him with a rusty spoon if they felt it was necessary. He had seen worse by closer friends within the Career group during the Games.

Gale wandered restlessly around the training area, lingering near no one station for more than ten minutes, save the bow station. He was impatient, and he could feel the same irritability growing in some of the other tributes. The ones that weren't frantically still trying to win the Gamemakers' attention, that is. Seeing them let loose made him see the older tributes in a different light, but it made him inexplicably less sympathetic toward them. They were human, and he could find their weaknesses. The fun and games were over, and it was time for him to focus on winning. The vague knowledge of their sexual and alcohol-related conquests did little to make him falter in his goal.

Lunch approached with the sluggish gait of a wounded squirrel. Occasionally hopping forward surprisingly quickly, but generally limping pathetically with no progress. But, it came eventually, to Gale's gratitude. Lunch itself was brief, albeit relatively cheerful. Then they were called one by one to demonstrate any hidden skills to the makers. The Career table slowly dwindled in numbers, and Gale was disturbingly glad that it went boy-girl. It meant he could enjoy a conversation with Clove without Cato looming, and it meant he wasn't stuck alone with Rivvet.

After Pearl left, Gale felt oddly empty, abandoned by all his recently acquired associates. Several of the other tributes were sitting with their district partners, and Gale caught April sitting with the tributes from six out of the corner of his eye. The room was eerily silent otherwise, as no-one besides the Careers was brave enough to strike up a conversation. Gale changed his opinion of that when Merry approached him with an exaggerated sway in her steps. Gale had seen her attempting to seduce Glimmer, who was receptive, and Marvel, who was not, during the morning's proceedings. He knew he would have to follow Glimmer's example to hone his player reputation, much to his disgust. It wasn't that she wasn't pretty, far from it, but Gale knew of a much different sixteen-year-old girl he'd rather be with.

"Hey Gale." She wasn't nearly as good as Glimmer at the sexy angle, and seemed to have taken some lessons from the Capitol on acceptable makeup amounts. Gale decided to cut straight to the point, bypassing any need to make idle conversation, and cut her off with a kiss. They proceeded to obnoxiously make out in full view of the other tributes, until she was finally called. She was a decent kisser, but Gale guessed she had a lot less experience then she wanted people to think. Gale left her with a smile as she backed out to her individual session with an amusing mixture of sluttyness and bemusement.

Gale settled down to wait for the next few minutes, grateful that the odds of the 12-year-old, Thresh, or April coming on to him were astronomically low. After the little girl left, he and April were left alone. Neither spoke, and Gale realized with regretful contentment that the split between them that had started when he made her look like a fool had become complete. If they saw each other in the arena, the only bonds that would hold them together would be those of district loyalty. It was uncomfortable being in a room alone together, and Gale walked away quickly once he was called.

Only a few of the Gamemakers were paying any attention to him, which irritated him until he remembered it would work to his advantage. If they thought he had nothing else left to show them, it would make the surprise all the more amusing. He got the attention of a woman, plump by Capitol standards, eating some form of cake.

"I just wanted to clarify, am I allowed to use anything in the room to demonstrate my skills?" The few that had been paying attention held mildly confused faces. The woman put on a kind, motherly, smile that made Gale want to vomit.

"Of course, dear."

"And I can't get in trouble for using everything to the fullest extent available?" Her pierced eyebrows contorted in confusion, the small implanted gems ruining their pre-arranged pattern and falling together in a heap.

"No, why would that happen?" Gale smiled blamelessly back.

"Just making sure." He went over to the camouflage station and dumped several small buckets of varying kinds of leaves all over the floor.

"You weren't worried about making a mess were you?" The woman laughed, and Gale smiled bashfully back.

He then walked soundlessly over to edible plants and berries. It earned him a look from one of the Gamemakers, but the others just focused more on their overflowing plates. Gale sorted the plants effortlessly into groups based on their toxicity. He wasn't as good as Katniss with their names and locations, but four years gathering with her in times with little food had taught him a lot. Gale worked quickly, and soon ventured all the way across the room past the knife station to the one with camouflage, and pretended to work intently on something. He could tell the Gamemakers were coming close to dismissing him, and so he called out to them again. It took some effort for him to conceal his smile when he said, "Come look at this."

Some of the more inattentive Gamemakers startled, wondering dully when he had crossed the entire room. Three of the more curious or marginally less ravenous Gamemakers tramped to him through the foliage in the most direct line possible, as Gale knew they would. Gale wondered as they approached how they couldn't feel even a slight pang of apprehension as they wandered into his trap. But they were thin and spoiled and hadn't encountered even the slightest bit of danger since the day they were born. And Gale would be taking advantage of that.

The leading Gamemaker was the first to trip, and his co-workers stepped forward to help, but they were interrupted by a crash. The tablecloth had been pulled off the table, food and all. Gamemakers leapt back and tripped over themselves in confusion, trying to get away from the mess. Chairs were knocked back, and Gamemakers stumbled over tripwires that had sprung into place around them. Panic ensued, and Gale threw a strangely shaped net, from one of the stations, over several of them. They immediately became entangled in it, thrashing around, and only becoming worse off. A few had partially regained their senses and bolted for the door under some re-awakened animalistic instinct. They too tripped, feet caught by unseen wires. One made it to the door, and began pounding on it in desperation when he realized it had been bound tightly shut.

Three of the Gamemakers still sat in a state of shock, food dripping down their faces and clothing, unresponsive to the chaos around them. Gale was out of ropes, so he let them be for a while, and turned to the Gamemakers still pitifully trying to escape through the closed door. He walked up to him, knife in hand, and the maker tried to shied away, but Gale stopped him and held him firm. Gale gave his most malicious smile, letting all his enjoyment and a tinge of his hatred come bubbling out. He held his knife up to the man's neck, and said in a calm unavoidable voice. "Dead." He let the man go, and he dropped quivering to the floor.

The Gamemakers on the floor were like children trying to escape punishment from a parent when they had been caught doing something bad, but Gale's firm penalty for their stupidity was unavoidable. He approached them with a steady gait, and he could see the primal fear in their eyes, which they had previously not possessed. Several were still shrieking, but Gale went up to each and repeated his actions. He held a knife to their throats, and told them they were dead. Killed. Defeated. Gale told them something they had never heard before, that they had lost.

After he had done so, he cut their bonds, but most were still too stunned to move. Gale next made his way to the first man he had tripped, along with the man and the woman who had been with him. The man had regained his senses somewhat, but the fear was still present, and Gale relished it. These people who had always held so much power over him were afraid of him, of what he could do. The psychological aspect of his trap had subdued them as much as the physical bonds. They had thought themselves untouchable, but now they realized they were at the mercy of someone capable of killing them effortlessly.

Gale finished cutting loose the net of people, and stood back to admire his work. They had all stopped screaming, and silence permeated the room. They were starting to regain their senses, and Gale decided to give them a nudge to help them admire him rather then decide to make his life hell in the arena.

"I hope you liked my demonstration." Gale let out a winning smile, and some Gamemakers let out shaky laughs. "I do hope I didn't scare you?" Gale did his best to look concerned, which brought out a few more laughs, and broke the silence. The Gamemakers started chattering amongst themselves, some with looks of rage, others laughing, and all insisting they had been fine all along. Eventually one turned to Gale.

"You're dismissed now."

"Do you want me to help deactivate the rest of the wires?" The man let out a hearty laugh.

"Traps and such are our specialty. You just caught us off guard." Gale smiled.

"Then I'm sure you can appreciate their value. Goodbye, and thank you for your time. Sorry about the mess, but you _did_ say I could use anything in the room," said Gale cheekily. The woman he had talked to huffed, but he made a few of the others laugh again.

"Excellent trap by the way. Good use of intimidation. I wonder, did you have any other things you were going to include?" Asked an inquisitive maker.

"Looking for tips?" Gale joked likely.

"Originality is always good."

"I thought about having some snakes jump out, after all, who isn't scared of snakes," at a nod, Gale continued, "but I couldn't think of a way to get a hold of some without arousing suspicion."

"Snakes, very good. I'll have to remember that. Very well, you can leave."

Gale turned and walked out of the room to the elevator. He only let himself break down laughing once he was inside. The Gamemakers would see him if they watched the footage of him in the elevator later, but by then they would have made their decision, and have cooled off a little. Gale wondered absentmindedly what the commentators would think of his behavior, but he couldn't stop himself. While the Gamemakers hadn't activated even half of the snares he had set up, he had been expecting that, and it went very well overall. The Gamemakers were remarkably easy to manipulate into doing what he wanted them too.

Haymitch looked inquiringly at him from his seat on the couch, but Gale waved him away smiling. "It went well. I should get a decent score, as long as they don't just give me a zero." Haymitch raised an eyebrow, but Gale merely pretended to lock his lips like a small child. "I can't say what happened in individual training," he said mockingly. Some part of him knew it was a bad idea to antagonize Haymitch, but he was in too good of a mood to care.

"Rule number one in the arena. Don't piss off the people helping you. Now spill." Gale pretended to reconsider.

"I'll tell you when I come back. How's that?" Gale left the room and Haymitch shouted after him.

"Cockiness will get you Killed. Rule number 2." Gale found it extremely hard to believe Haymitch had followed either of those two rules during his Game. Gale ignored him and continued to his room; however once he arrived he found he still had nothing to occupy his time with. He knew he should catch up on lost sleep, but Gale was still on a high from giving the Gamemakers a taste of their own medicine. Gale wasted an hour looking at the delicacies offered to him by room service, but ultimately didn't order any. Instead he decided to join Haymitch on the couch, and try to pick up learn some current events of the Capitol that didn't pertain to the Games. Effie and Haymitch were sitting on the couch when he arrived, but neither was paying attention to the television.

"What's wrong?" Effie was constantly readjusting her clothing, and Haymitch was staring more irritably then usual at the screen.

"April's still not back yet. It's been more then an hour since you finished your session.

"Oh. Sorry, they probably spent a while cleaning up after my session. I made a bit of a mess with some leaves," Gale explained. Effie only looked marginally reassured, and Haymitch just looked more pissed. "I'm sure she'll be here any minute." He sat on the couch, trying to ignore Haymitch's accusatory looks and watch the screen. It was a full fifteen minutes later when April arrived. Effie ran up to hug her, but she looked past her at Gale.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

"Isn't that what we're all wondering," Haymitch snarkily interjected. Gale could see he would get nowhere with Haymitch without telling him.

"Alright, fine!" He said exasperatedly. "Not that I really think it'll matter, but April leave." She huffed a little, but Effie consolingly offered to help her pick out a dress for the evening. Haymitch started as soon as they were out of the room.

"Talk." Gale sighed.

"You probably won't like this, but I couldn't resist."

"You are filling me with confidence. How bad was it?" Haymitch took a swing from his flask.

"Well, the Gamemakers set traps in the arena to kill and terrify tributes. I decided to show them what it felt like to be on the receiving end." Haymitch groaned, and Gale hastily added. "I had some of them laughing by the time I was done, so I don't think they'll hate me too much." Haymitch rolled his eyes, but Gale could see a strange look on his face. He could tell Haymitch was sizing him up again, but what the verdict was, he couldn't say.

"We'll find out how bad you fucked up tonight," he said before turning back to the television. Gale followed suit, and neither spoke until the elevator dinged announcing the arrival of the stylists. Gale stood up and greeted Portia with a smile.

"My, my, Gale you've been up to a lot since I last saw you," she greeted. Gale could tell she disapproved, and she was more standoffish then before, but he made it his goal to convince her he wasn't all bad. He didn't know when the opinion of someone who lived in the Capitol had come to mean anything to him, no matter how little, but he ignored the thought and pressed on.

"I hope there hasn't been much gossip. I do have my image to maintain." There, she would notice his hint if she were anything close to intelligent.

"No doubt," she replied neutrally. Gale noticed Cinna looking at him quizzically, but he ignored it. The man had made it apparent last time they met that he didn't like Gale, and Gale wasn't going to try very hard to change his opinion. He had at least some standards regarding pandering to the Capitol.

They moved into the dinning room, and were joined by Effie and April. Both were wearing fanciful gowns, which Gale correctly guessed had been designed by Cinna. They talked fashion once again, but this time Gale stayed away from the alcohol. He had given himself time to run away from his circumstances last night, and now felt ready to face them head on. Even if accepting his situation involved sitting through menial debate over the next month's fashionable color. Frankly he didn't know the difference between Goldenrod and Sunshine yellow, and didn't want to know, especially since one of the people discussing their petite differences wouldn't be around to know the Capitol's stylists official conclusion.

After the feast they meandered to the living room to watch as scores were given out. Gale carefully noted that only Cato and Glimmer were awarded 10s. Probably because Cato threatened them and Glimmer blew them. Marvel, Pearl, and Clove all got 9s, and Rivvet ended up with only an 8. No one from district three or districts five through ten scored higher then a six, although Gale noticed that the boy from 3, girl from 5, and boy from ten all earned threes despite being fifteen or older. From his past observations, this usually meant they were hiding something, or pretending to. The little girl from 11 surprised him by whipping out a 7, with her hulking partner turning out a 10. Gale would have thought sheer strength would only merit an 8 or so, but it was hard to tell if Thresh had some other hidden talent.

Gale's own face flashed on the screen, a picture taken at some unknown point since his selection as tribute. He was smirking cockily, and Gale still had issues recognizing himself in the Career's face. He didn't have long to think about it however, when his essence was condensed into a single number for convenience's sake. 11. The stylists, Haymitch and Effie, generously complimented him, and he did his best to be modest. The number lingered for a bit, before it turned to April's face. The couch quieted again as a four flashed across the screen. It wasn't much, but as Effie hastily comforted her, no one paid attention to scores unless they were crazily high. April said nothing, but Gale took his cue to exit quietly as they talked with her.

The smile that had graced his face since seeing his eleven vanished once he left the room. It was a little too good. Cato would be pissed off at him for getting a higher score, and the last thing he needed was to make an enemy out of such a dangerous opponent. But, it had been worth it. To have at least one moment where he could show the Gamemakers what he really thought of them was definitely worth it. And having the highest score would attract plenty of sponsors who had still thought he was some pretty boy from 12 trying to fumble his way into the Careers.

Gale continued his reluctant pep talk as he prepared for bed. The events of the past day had been exhausting, and he quietly undressed and threw himself on his bed. It was incredible to think that a few short days ago he hadn't know that Cato and Glimmer and Thresh even existed, much less known intimate details of his plans to kill them. They had faces, and they had names, but some dark part of Gale insisted that it didn't matter. That nothing mattered except winning. It was a part of himself that Gale had suppressed in his past life in district 12, but it was something that would soon become necessary. Gale only hoped that could be contained again after he let it loose. There were tributes who had gone mad in the Games. Cannibals, rapists, teens that killed for the sake of killing and thrived on it. Gale made a promise to himself that if he thought he was turning into one of them he would end it himself. It wouldn't be worth coming back if he wasn't still Gale when he did.

* * *

><p><strong>Review! -Terence <strong>


	8. Fere libenter homines

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>8. Fere libenter homines id quod volunt credunt<br>**

Gale woke before the rest of his floor, but didn't get up. Instead he lay on his bed, allowing himself to think back on district 12. Like he had put aside his childishness in his individual session and during the party, now he put aside his sentimental side. He thought of home, of his siblings, of school. He thought of his friends and of Prim. He thought of the woods, and he thought of Katniss. He said goodbye to them all, and promised himself not to think of them again until after the Games. He couldn't afford to have Katniss popping up when he kissed Glimmer, and he couldn't afford to see the similarities between his younger siblings and the little girl from 11. He brought the ideas to mind, acknowledged their existence, and then let them go.

Breakfast was once again a quiet affair. April and Effie were noticeably more somber than they had been the night before, but Gale had no room for sympathy for them. He remained silently seated after he finished eating, uncertain of what to do next. They had never planned long in the future, or rather, as Gale corrected himself, he had not been told what the plan was. The day Effie Trinket started without a plan would be the day the Capitol announced the end of the Hunger Games and apologized to the districts.

"Today we'll be switching things up. I'm talking strategy with April, and you and Effie can work on straightening out your manners." Haymitch left no room for discussion, and Gale soon found himself reluctantly pacing the room in front of Effie.

"Don't _pace_, glide. Stride. Anything besides this slouching." Gale put aside his rebellious thoughts, and followed her every command. He knew she was trying to help, in her own way, although it made Gale no less aggravated with her. She critiqued every aspect of his presence, including the frivolous niceties of how he chewed his food during the meager lunch he was hastily given. Gale prided himself on being able to keep a level head through the ordeal.

By midafternoon, Effie was beaming. "I've never met someone so camera-ready," she remarked fondly. "You're nothing like those animals we got last year!" Gale re-wrote his face into a smile, trying to take the compliment as it was intended. He would have had minimal success, but luckily he had just spent hours rehearsing how best to look pleasing when irritated.

Haymitch entered the room, April in tow, and Gale glanced at the clock. It was finally time to start getting prepped for the interviews. To his relief, Effie informed him that the rest of the evening would be spent with Portia, as much of his basic image had already been constructed. Judging by the instability of the man's step and the tear tracks down April's face, their session together hadn't gone well, and Gale didn't want to be near him. Despite their similarities, or perhaps because of them, Gale found he couldn't stand to spend much time with Haymitch. The man knew statistically, that the odds of any tribute from 12 winning decreased each year, and rather than trying to change the impossible facts of the situation, had decided to work within their constraints. This mainly involved separating himself from the tributes as much as possible, and being generally no help whatsoever. Gale could see his point, but it made him all the more pissed.

"Just continue acting as you have and you'll be fine. I trust you not to say anything completely idiotic on stage." April barely had the self-esteem left to look miffed at the implication, and Gale settled for rolling his eyes.

"I'll be fine. Don't you trust me?" Gale finished with the devilish smirk Effie had helped him perfect.

"Not in the slightest. Perfect. Now run along and don't be late." Gale and April turned to the elevators, dismissed.

"Nervous for tonight?" Gale attempted to make idle conversation during the long way down to the staging area.

"Hardly." April smiled innocently back at him, and Gale realized he should probably stop letting his guard down around her. District loyalty only went so far.

They parted ways as soon as the elevator chimed their arrival on the correct floor. Gale was ushered into a room where Aurelius, Gaia, and Troilus greeted him with frighteningly identical smiles. He realized suddenly that each had gotten their teeth straightened and whitened to perfection, an act that made them look less beautiful and more like freakish variations of the same cloned body. External variation, internal duplication. Gale greeted them enthusiastically back. They lead him into the same prepping room as their previous encounter, and talked with him gleefully as they applied makeup.

"Congratulations! The whole city's been talking about you." Gale began modestly accepting the praise for his 11, but Troilus cut him off.

"No not about _that_ silly. Although good job of course," he added hastily. "We mean about your absolutely killer party. My friends and I were all simply distraught that we couldn't attend." It was nice to see Troilus had his priorities straightened out.

"I just wanted to have a little fun in the city. It's been dreadfully dull except for training." Gale took the opportunity to try out some of his crafted responses on a live audience.

"Well it couldn't have been _that_ dull," Aurelius hinted conspiratorially. "Not when you've met such an interesting friend."

"Yes, not all boring." Gale tried to make up for his weak response with a suave grin.

"Oh yes, the two of you make a fabulous couple. You the dark mysterious newcomer, and her the bright star from 1." Gaia was practically drooling.

"So romantic, thrown together by circumstance, yet unable to be together. Not that you haven't each been given plenty of offers if things don't work out." Troilus winked, and Gale expertly disguised his shudder with a shrug and a small smile.

"Not to give away details," the prep team leaned forward earnestly "but I don't know if it'll last long." Gale shared a sad sigh with them but continued, "I'm not really one to settle down." The prep team let out little squeaks of joy that Gale instantly shut out of his memory. "So what new has been happening to you?" This served to distract them from himself, and Gale tuned out their excited ramblings for the next hour.

This time he was bathed only once, although Gale didn't really see the point as they then smudged him artistically in coal dust mixed with gold and red sparkles. It was decidedly odd seeing something so familiar paired with something so innately Capitol. Despite the glitter, he felt much more natural in this than he had in any of the other costumes he had worn since the train. He felt a layer of trepidation as they styled his hair with the same red/gold/black color pattern, but his prep team insisted it would wash out by the next day, and Gale had to believe them. However zealous the designer, he had never seen anyone enter the arena with a completely altered appearance. His prep team was dismissed, and Portia entered with a dark colored object shrouded in a white bag.

"It occurred to me just two days ago, when I saw you and Glimmer." Gale began to make some feeble excuses, but Portia waved him off. "Never mind what I personally think of your angle, you can't change it now. Anyway, I realized an easy way to incorporate the fire to fit your theme. It seemed so obvious once I thought of it that I had to change my original plans."

"What will I be wearing?" Gale still didn't fully trust his designer, not after he had seen so many years of horrid costumes.

"This." She pulled out a plain black suit, and Gale glanced at her with mixed relief and confusion. "Don't get too happy about it yet. When you start your interview I want you to make some horrible joke about how hot it is. Then I'll press a button and some synthetic fire will start, and you'll end up looking like this." Portia pulled out a second, much more revealing suit with pride. "It should be just obvious enough for them to get it." Gale eyed the second suit with some displeasure, but Portia waved him off. "You'll need to lose what's left of your modesty at some point, so get used to it."

"What modesty?" Gale said smiling, before dropping his robe completely and starting to put on the suit unabashedly. Portia laughed.

"Perfect. Now there's the part of Gale the cameras want to see." The truth in her innuendo lessened its humor for Gale, and she seemed to sense it. "You'll be fine. They already love you."

"A little too much, some of them."

"That won't matter till after the Games." There was something off about Portia's wording, but Gale didn't have time to ponder it as she set out hurriedly applying gold lipstick and eyeliner. Once she had finished he ate a quick roll with all the speed he could muster without ruining his appearance. Gale avoided his reflection in the mirror, knowing he would either look like a freak or be forced into feeling in debt to Portia for making him look wonderful. He couldn't decide which would upset him more. Besides, if he did look like a freak, at least this way his confidence level would remain intact.

"This will be splendid. I haven't even told Cinna about this piece, he still thinks I'm going with a plain suit with simple flames down the side." Portia shook her head to indicate the ludicrousness of that statement. "He had some plan that you and April would be matching, start to finish. Obviously, I put my foot down on that once it was clear the two of you weren't going to become allies."

"Thank you for that. And for everything really, you've been a wonderful stylist." Portia smiled knowingly.

"Here's a tip Gale, flattery won't work on everyone. Not when I've known you for more than a few hours. Luckily, that won't be a problem during the Games." Gale felt himself subconsciously liking her more and more the longer they spent together, much to his regret. She looked at her watch. "It's show time, go join the other tributes."

Gale kept all of Effie's instructions at the forefront of his mind as he approached the line of tributes. There was a little number for him to stand on while they were waiting to go on stage, so he didn't have time to talk to the other Careers. He wouldn't have time to talk with them until they were in the arena, he realized with a jolt. April materialized by his side a few minutes before they were meant to go onstage. She looked much more mature in an elegant dress covered in gems. It gleamed like fire when she walked, and Gale had to admire Cinna's brilliancy, if not his pragmatism. He had to have commandeered half the precious stones in the city to pull it off.

The doors to the stage opened dramatically, and the roar of the crowd greeted him once again. He had already solidified a careless grin on his face, and so he wasn't caught off guard like he knew some of the other tributes were. They paraded up to their seats like flock of turkeys displaying their extravagant plumage. Gale kept his eyes trained on the crowd, trying to distract their attention as the tributes began to speak. It was no surprise to him as Glimmer flirted outrageously with Caesar Flickerman, the audience, and the world at large. Marvel solidified his aloof persona, Clove exhibited her cunning side, and terrified the crowd into submission. Evidentially Finnick and the older woman had selected boastful and quietly arrogant for Pearl and Rivvet respectively. Rivvet definitely had the quiet portion down to pat, although the confidence was more than a bit lacking. It was slightly amusing to see how easily the Careers condensed their multifaceted personalities into a single trait easy enough for the audience to handle. The same exact tributes appeared on stage year after year, only given new faces and barely detectable flavors.

Districts 5 through 10 blurred past. Of the better actors and actresses, Gale noticed the girl from 5, Vix he remembered, pull off elusive quite well, and the boy from six did a nice confident. Merry's interview was amusing as she not so subtly referenced her exploits with various tributes, himself included. Gale smiled and shrugged when he felt cameras grazing him for a quick response. Gale had been looking forward to learning a bit more about Thresh, but unfortunately albeit unsurprisingly, Thresh's angle seemed to consist of saying as little as possible and acting intimidating.

April's interview was before his, and she did a remarkably good job. She and Caesar Flickerman got along splendidly, and she spent most of her time comparing and contrasting the styles of the Capitol and district 12. She still held some of the crowd's attention as they remembered her costume in the opening ceremonies, but many were getting restless. Somewhere in the middle of her interview she twirled for the camera, sending light cascading around her. The crowd let out exclamations, but Gale was doubtful they would remember her much in the long run. Gale's nerves built all through her interview, and he wished it would end so he could get his over with.

Finally a buzzer sounded, and April was dismissed. Gale buoyantly ascended center stage, stretching out his hand to greet his host. Caesar Flickerman's unnatural youth and blue hair had stopped disturbing him after his encounter with Troilus.

"My, my, my, they really do save the best for last," Caesar joked as Gale settled in. "How have you been enjoying the Capitol so far?" It was one of a number of standard issue questions, that Gale had formatted replies for.

"It's been wonderful. Company's been superb." That drew more then a few laughs, but Gale continued on before Caesar Flickerman could respond. "I have to say though, is it getting a little hot in here?" he asked with false innocence. The crowd jumped back a little as he burst into flames on cue. Their statement quickly turned into cheers and wolf-whistles at Gale's newly exposed skin. "Oh, sorry I guess that's just me." Gale winked at the crowd, to more applause. They were easier to control than Prim's goat.

"As much as we love you I do think there's a rule about undressing in the middle of your interview," Caesar joked to the crowd, to enthusiastic booos.

"I think you'll find I've never really been one to play by the rules Caesar." Gale casually removed his jacket, exposing his torso, to add to the effect. They had to wait for a pause in the noise levels before continuing.

"We know all about you breaking rules Gale. Did you really think we wouldn't find out about that little party you organized?" Caesar's teasing reproach brought more laughs from the crowd.

"What can I say," Gale replied. "I was bored. You'll find I need a little more action in my life to keep me occupied." Gale turned his gaze strategically down the line of his fellow tributes before doing the same to the crowd. "Not that there's slim pickings here."

"Which really does beg the question Gale," Caesar said once the crowd had quieted, "was anyone able to catch your eye back in district 12?" Gale had known the question would be coming at some point and so he recited his enigmatic response as naturally as possible.

"Well there _is_ one girl. Won't say if she's from here or back home, but she's got me caught. As well as a guy like me can be, anyway." Gale threw another wink at the crowd.

"You're no fun," Caesar pouted. "Give us a hint, a name, anything. We're begging you." Gale smiled in response.

"All I can say is she's the prettiest girl I've ever met. Then again, if I said anything else about her she'd hunt me down and bash my beautiful face in." Gale hoped Katniss would catch the reference to the time she had punched him for calling her a little girl when they were just getting to know each other.

"Sounds like a lovely girl," said Caesar as the buzzer went off. Gale shook his hand again and picked up his jacket before sitting back down with the tributes, although he didn't put it back on. Caesar wrapped up the night with a few jokes, and then the tributes paraded off stage again. The tributes from the middle to upper districts were quick to clear out, but Gale could see the other Careers milling about. It was his chance to talk them one last time before the Games started.

"Think you whored it up enough on stage?" Cato's remarks had lost a good deal of their sting over the past few days, and Gale was starting to suspect insulting people was just Cato's way of saying hello.

"Probably. I was debating losing more, but I've got to give them something to wait for right?" Cato rolled his eyes. "So what's the plan?" Banter aside, they had serious things to discuss.

"Our mentors spent most of today talking over opening strategies. Haymitch obviously decided not to show up, so we thought it'd be best to fill you in."

"That's thoughtful of you." Clove decided to take over and relay the information without its being punctuated by regular insults.

"Pretty basic strategy really. We secure the Cornucopia as fast as possible, taking out as many of other tributes as possible. Then we take stock of what we've got and make someone stick around to guard it while the rest of us go hunting."

"What's the plan for Rivvet?" The teen had ventured upstairs without waiting, and Gale intended to capitalize on the opportunity.

"We decided not to tell the mentors, but whoever's got the least number of kills can have him. Unfortunately can't make it too bloody or Pearl might loose some support from her district." Pearl shrugged off the slight blame.

"It's not my fault my district partner turned out to be so bad."

"We'll wait till most of the fighting's over, at any rate." Gale nodded. There was nothing else left to say.

"See you all tomorrow then." Gale forced himself to give a careless smile. "Should be a fun day." Gale turned away and saw Cato and Clove break off to talk about something out of the way of their mentor's ears. He saw Glimmer shoot Pearl and Marvel a look in the reflection off of the elevator, and he wasn't surprised as she followed him inside.

"Mind if I drop you off on your floor?" Gale gave a knowing smile as the doors closed.

"That'd be awfully out of your way wouldn't it?" He turned to her and her lips crashed into his with a surprising amount of passion. He returned it as best he could, and they spent a pleasant minute riding up to the 12th floor. They broke apart when the elevator doors opened, and Gale gave her one more, softer, kiss before stepping onto his floor. "I'll see you tomorrow Glimmer."

She had a strange look on her face, and replied "Good luck." Before pressing the close door button, leaving him no time to respond. Gale shook his head. Careers were strange.

Gale plodded through another dinner filled with compliments and fashion. He denied Haymitch's offers of alcohol once again, as a precaution against feeling out of sorts the next day. He refused the offered sleeping pill, following the same logic. Gale left dinner early, but lay awake in bed for a considerable amount of time, pondering what lay ahead. In less than twenty-four hours he would be either in the arena, fighting for his life, or he would be dead. Gale composed himself as best he could, and attempted to sleep, but something kept nagging at him. He reproached himself for being foolish, but when he heard quiet steps making their way down the corridor, his feet moved without asking permission.

"Hey, April?" April stopped, startled, and turned to him.

"What do you want Gale?" April sounded weary. If she had looked mature and stylish during her interview, now she looked old. Gale felt abruptly awkward and distinctly unwanted, but he pressed on, for his own sake more then hers.

"I just wanted to say-" Gale paused and gave short bitter laugh. "Fuck. I just wanted to say good luck tomorrow. And I'm sorry ahead of time if things don't-" He searched for a pleasant way to say it but came up short. "Look, I'm sorry if one of us ends up killing the other, alright? No hard feelings." It was April's turn to laugh.

"Easy for you to say. You're the one with a chance in hell of going home." Gale ran his hand through his hair.

"Don't go in thinking that."

"Don't try to shelter me now. Not when you've already stolen my mentor and all the attention Cinna could have brought me." Gale felt vaguely guilty, but the emotion wasn't nearly as strong as it should have been. "I'm not like Glimmer or Merry who you can lead on like little lost puppies. I know what your game is, and I'm not falling for it."

"I'm not playing any games. Not now."

"Just leave me alone, Gale." They were still feet away from each other, but in the dimly lit hallway, Gale become suddenly aware that April was crying. She was hiding it well; only a slight hiccup in her voice betrayed her. Gale stepped closer, but April backed away. He stopped. "Stop, whatever it is you're trying to pull, just stop it. I thought you'd at least have the dignity to leave off the night before the Games." Gale's irritation got the best of him.

"That's what I've been trying to do, ok? I just didn't want things to end like this between us."

"It's your own damn fault."

"I know." Gale was silent for a pause, and April tried to walk past him into her room, but he held out a hand, stopping her. "You don't have to forgive me, but I'm sorry." April still refused to look at him, and he reached down and put his hand under her chin, making her look at him. Her eyes shone, and tears covered half her face. "Chin up, ok?"

The tears only began falling faster, and Gale knew he was making a mess of things. He started looking for an exit strategy that wouldn't make her more angry with him when she nodded through her tears. Gale began to pull back, but a small hand on his arm stopped him. "Can you just-" Gale looked down at her, and she seemed like a little girl again. Exhausted, stressed, and frightened beyond belief. Gale nodded, and opened her door, guiding her inside. He paused for a moment, unsure, and then decided to simply steer her toward the bed without trying handle the potentially uncomfortable situation of finding her pajamas. April was beyond caring anyway, and her silent tears were giving away to heaving sobs.

Gale sat beside, putting his arm around her hesitantly. Katniss had never cried in her life as far as he could tell, so the closest he had been to a crying girl was comforting Posy when she was hungry. This was a realm outside of his knowledge, but April didn't appear to care. She leaned in to his half-embrace, and Gale attempted to soothe her by rubbing small circles on her arm. He couldn't think of anything else to do, and he continued repeating his actions as April slowly stilled. Once he was reasonably certain she had fallen asleep, Gale gently lay her down on her bed, and tucked one of the blankets over her. It was the best he could think of doing, and he crept out of her room.

He reflected that it had been a bit more closure then he had been expecting, as he stepped out into the moonlit hallway. The hour he had spent sitting next to April had helped to soothe himself as well, and Gale had scarcely laid down before he joined her in the world of dreams. Together they were in bed by eleven, which was much more than could be said for most of the other sleepless, terrified, tributes still pacing floors below.

* * *

><p><strong>As you can guess, this is the last chapter before the start of the Games. Hope you didn't get too attached to any of the characters! I'll try to update every day in honor of the movie coming out Friday, but we'll see if it happens. Reviews=encouragementincentive to stop being lazy and update, so do it!**


	9. Tantaene animis caelestibus irae?

**Strong violence warning.**

* * *

><p><strong>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C<br>C C** 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>9. Tantaene animis caelestibus irae?<strong>

Gale was woken early by Portia's arm on his shoulder. The sun still too tired to even think about rising, and the rest of the city slept on. The Games wouldn't start until at least noon, but the tributes themselves had to be flown out to the arena. He dressed silently, not paying any attention to the clothes he knew he would soon discard, and followed Portia to the elevator. April and Cinna were nowhere in sight, but that was for the best. Saying goodbye to April last night had mucked up their relationship irreparably, and Gale had no idea where they stood. But he had bigger things to worry about.

There was still no guarantee that the Careers weren't planning to slaughter him as soon as the bloodbath was over. There was no guarantee some completely innocuous looking tribute wouldn't stab him in the back before he got a chance to find a weapon. Most importantly, there was no guarantee that there would be a bow. The Cornucopia could be brimming with spears and maces as far as the eyes could see. Gale pushed theses troubling thoughts aside. He could do nothing to solve the last, and the first few problems could only be guarded against with vigilance. Which he couldn't have if he was distracted by idle thoughts of all the 'what ifs'.

Gale had been senselessly following Portia's directions, vocalized and indicated, and had somehow arrived at a hovercraft. It appeared from nowhere, and Gale felt a slight shudder as he remembered the only other time he had seen another like it. Gale reached up and took the offered ladder quickly, disguising his perturbed mental state with confidence. Even that false confidence faltered when he found himself frozen to the ladder by a current, and hoisted into the craft. He berated himself for being so easily startled, but when he entered the cockpit and remained glued to the ladder, he felt his unease justified. A man in a white coat came over with a large needle.

"Tracker for in the arena. It's easier to install when you're not moving." Gale doubted the tracker would be removed even from the victors. It would be handy as a surveillance mechanism. Gale was released and sat rigidly in one of the chairs. Even if he won, things wouldn't go back to normal. Normal was long gone, he had to remind himself. Portia sat across from them, but neither she nor Gale spoke. After a few minutes Gale decided to get as much sleep as he could. The small mechanical noises and bright lights gnawed at his senses, but eventually he must have begun to doze.

Portia woke him an indiscernible amount of time later with an offer of breakfast. Gale was a little doubtful about his stomach's capacity to handle much, so he stuck to breads and water. It would be better to eat something than nothing, and Portia informed him there would still be another two hours before the start. He was grateful she had woken him, it wouldn't do to start off in the arena groggy from just waking up. Although, he conceded, waking up in the arena would be sure to dispel sleep from even the most lazy of Capitol elites. It would be an interesting experiment. Put the fans in the arena.

Gale entertained himself slightly with images of Aurelius and Effie refusing to touch the weapons because they might ruin their nails. It would either be the longest or the shortest Game in existence, depending on whether or not at least one person decided to go for it. If only his own opponents could be so fastidious. Gale was certain even Glimmer wouldn't hesitate in the slightest about diving into a mud bath for a potential advantage. The tributes were all either too desperate, or too calculating. Most were desperate, but the majority of that portion would be dead before the day's end.

The hovercraft landed, and the tension Gale had been struggling to suppress gained enormous ground. He entered the building that he refused to refer to as the Stockyards, and glanced at a clock. One hour to go, and Portia informed him he just had enough time to take a shower before getting dressed. Gale was a little critical of how an hour would be just enough time, but said nothing, only nodded. He let the steaming water cascade over his body, and scrubbed himself completely. He still hadn't washed any of his makeup or dye off, but thankfully it came out easily. It shouldn't have surprised him that fashion related items had been perfected in the Capitol.

Gale tried to center himself. Tried to turn his nerves into excitement and energy. He felt like one of his snares, ready to be set off at the slightest touch. He couldn't spring too early or risk coming up with nothing, but the longer he sat waiting, the less energy he would have when he reacted. Portia offered him more water, which he guzzled as best he could. Then there was nothing to do but wait. The clock was malfunctioning, it seemed to jump and skip as it counted down his life, but each minute took hours to pass. By ten minutes before the start, Gale was twitching, his hands ached to grasp a bow, some wire, anything he knew how to use as a weapon. By five minutes to, he was pacing around the room, a caged animal waiting to be slaughtered. What felt like seconds later, his prison decreased in size as he was forced to stand on his launch pad. Portia bade him a quick goodbye, but Gale only nodded distractedly back.

The pad began to rise, and Gale schooled his face into a determined smile. He would have to remain 100% the arrogant Career from now until he was out of the arena, one way or another. His feet bounced lightly on the pad before he quieted them, wary of setting off the mines beneath him. He stood absolutely frozen as he was suddenly forced out into the light. His eyes scanned his surroundings quickly, focusing on array of supplies in front of him. Items had been scattered according to their value, with the most useful items farthest from him. A gleaming silver bow caught his eye instantly, and he knew it had been put in place for him alone. But it was far away, at the heart of the Cornucopia, and Gale wasn't the sprinter Katniss was. Someone else would reach it first.

Gale could feel the seconds ticking away until he had to move, but he was still planning. A small pile of throwing knives gleamed among the myriad of unimportant objects, and Gale glanced to his right. He could see Clove eyeing them in glee, but he held out a one to her, asking. She just had time to nod back before the gong rang, and Gale tore off his plate, operating entirely on reflex. He sprinted for the knives, barely pausing to pick one up before changing his course to head for the bow. His feet pounded into the hard earth as he sprinted toward his goal, but the other tributes hadn't remained idle, and Gale was forced to duck under a clumsily wielded mace. Gale stabbed out instinctively with his knife, and felt it sink into flesh, but didn't stop to see exactly how much damage he had done before ripping it out, and continuing his mad dash for the bow. Another tribute darted into his vision before the flutter of black material was gone as they careened away from his warpath.

A distant part of Gale was thankful he had stopped for a weapon as he saw the girl from 9 begin to level the bow at him. She must have acquired it almost instantly, and he would have wasted precious seconds fighting bare handed. The girl only had time to let one arrow loose, but thankfully she hadn't even managed to pull the string back all the way, and she didn't have a clue how to aim it. Gale ducked unconsciously as it soared over his head before he lunged. She tried to hold out the bow to block him, but he easily swept it aside with one hand, and made a jab toward her throat. She evaded ineptly, tripping over something underfoot. Gale crouched next to her, unwilling to throw away his only weapon, and the girl jabbed an arrow across his thigh. He barely registered the pain before he sheathed the blade in her unguarded throat. Years of desensitization prevented him from flinching as fluid began pulsing from her neck in time with her frantic heart.

He glanced around, wary of other attacks, but no one was within striking distance. He tore the bow off the girl below him, using his foot to shove her body away, and picked the quiver up from the ground, slinging it over his shoulder with practiced ease. Then Gale paused, surveying the scene before him. Dead or dying tributes were already scattered across the field, and as he watched one of Clove's knives found its mark in a boy with an orange backpack. A small noise behind him made him start, before he realized it was just the girl from before, steadily drowning in her own blood. Sounds rushed to his ears, as he realized he had been subconsciously tuning them out since the start of the Games. He turned away quickly from the girl's newly-dyed clothes and reflected absently that white material would have provided a much more dramatic effect.

A few dozen feet away from him, Cato was taunting the boy from five, who had fallen and was scrambling backward with all the haste he could muster. His journey was cut abruptly short as Cato's blade earned a new paint coat on its journey through the boy's stomach.

Gale remained neutral as the boy's breath became tangled somewhere in his throat and a look of surprise and terror graced the kid's face as he leaned over and began coughing blood before collapsing into the dust. Gale forced his eyes from the sight, scanning his surroundings. An older girl was running from the bloodbath, and an arrow was in her neck before he had even made the conscious decision to fire. She tripped and fell with the strength of the blow, and began painfully crawling toward the forest. She was no longer a threat and he looked away. Gale knew she wouldn't get very far.

He could see Rivvet struggling to fend off the girl from seven, who had managed to grab a wicked looking scythe, and he left them to it as they disappeared to the other side of the Cornucopia. Two tributes of indiscernible gender and district were fighting over control of a single blade. Gale made eye contact with Clove, who was also observing the scene with faint amusement. She gestured at him, and Gale halted the combat abruptly. The remaining tribute had a look of utter shock on his face as his opponent dropped away dead, and it became permanent as Clove buried one of her deadly knives in his heart.

Quite suddenly, he, Clove, and Cato were the only ones left on their side of the Cornucopia. The sound of fighting could be clearly heard on the other side, but it sounded as though only a few combatants remained. Gale finally felt the effects of adrenaline rushing through his system and took a few shuddering breaths. He had made it past the first few minutes. "Let's see how the others have done." Cato was smiling in exhilaration, and Gale knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he was having the time of his life. In the sudden lull, Gale remembered the wound on his thigh, but thankfully a quick glance proved it was only a small scrape.

Gale leapt down from the small pile of supplies he had been standing on, avoiding the now still body of the girl from nine, and circled the Cornucopia with Cato and Clove. The sight which greeted him made his heart sink. Rivvet and the girl from seven still exchanged messy blows, but Marvel, Glimmer, and Pearl stood to the side and made no move to assist. Marvel was holding onto the boy from eight. More important, however, was Pearl's viselike grip on April.

She had a shallow cut on one arm, but was otherwise uninjured. Gale knew she wouldn't remain that way for long. She cast a desperate glance at Gale, which he returned with stony disinterest. He fixed his eyes once again on the fight before him. The girl from seven, Velvet, he suddenly remembered, was making Rivvet look like a fool. What she lacked in training or practice, she made up for in fierce determination and aggression. Rivvet, on the other hand, was hesitant. He wielded his spear cautiously, rarely striking out, and he had a faintly sick look on his face. The clang of metal on metal was the only noise in their otherwise silent battle, apart from the occasional grunt of fear or exertion. A yell of triumph came from neither side, and Gale knew they had made the right choice in ditching Rivvet.

The fight was at an impasse. Velvet wasn't good enough to slip past Rivvet's defenses, and it was becoming ever clearer that Rivvet wouldn't be able to deal the final blow. Marvel snickered, and Velvet became aware of her audience once more. Gale had seen the reversal before in wild cats, the sudden realization that they were not predator, but prey. To her credit, she barely faltered in her attack, continuing to make wide jabs and slices that Rivvet easily blocked. The Careers watched on in silence for a few more minutes before Cato spoke up for the rest of them.

"I'm bored." It was a death sentence for Velvet that was swiftly carried out. Cato's spear pierced her side before his words pierced her skull. Rivvet relaxed immediately, but wouldn't make eye contact.

"What's next? Do we deal with those two or count out supplies?"

"Neither. We've got some short business to attend to first. Marvel, Pearl, did either of you get in any kills before catching them?" Pearl nodded, smiling, but Marvel shook his head.

"Just grabbed the one who'd cry most, like you asked." The boy in his arms thrashed wildly, but Marvel paid him as much attention as butchers paid squealing pigs when someone had good money for pork.

"I don't think I remember that plan." Cato shrugged.

"Didn't apply to you."

"Any other plans that didn't apply to me?" Cato shook his head, but his eyes betrayed him as they flicked over to April. She had been dead from the start if it was their plan to test his loyalty with her.

"You still haven't answered my question," said Rivvet, foolishly reminding them of his presence.

"Yeah, sorry about that," said Cato grinning. "I was just curious about something." Marvel caught Gale's eye and gestured at his captive. Gale got the message and walked over to take him as Cato continued talking. "You see, we've been wondering if you were really Career material, you might say." Rivvet's grip tightened noticeably on his spear. "That little stunt you were pulling with her," Cato kicked the body at his feet, "confirms it. He's all yours Marvel." Gale had taken the quivering boy from him, and Marvel quietly approached Rivvet.

"I wonder, Rivvet, if you'll even fight back." Marvel smiled wickedly as he lunged forward suddenly. Rivvet took an immediate step back, deflecting the blow. He made a half-hearted stab at Marvel, who was expecting it. Gale didn't quite see the movement, but suddenly Rivvet's spear was pointing into nothing, while Marvel's was imbedded in flesh and bone. "Almost too easy," said Marvel as he pulled his spear from Rivvet's body. Rivvet wasn't completely dead quite yet, however, and he painfully tried to bring his weapon around again. Gale could hear his wet, labored breathing from where he stood, yards away. Rivvet continued making half-heartedly desperate attempts at blows, but Marvel didn't even bother to block his feeble strikes, and when one connected, it was with about the same amount of force as Posey exerted when throwing a tantrum. Marvel tutted, and turned back to the Careers, leaving him to die ignored on the ground.

"Nice one Marvel, too bad he was such an easy kill."

"Hardly worth the effort, I know."

"So, how're we dealing with those two?" asked Clove. The gleam in her eyes, and the predatory smile stealing across her face were both intimately familiar fixtures in the Games. Gale recognized them instantly.

"I was thinking we might as well give Gale the opportunity to rid us of that annoying little bitch. She's all yours." Gale winked for Cato's benefit, and pushed the boy back into Marvel's less than safe arms. He then fixed as honest and innocent look on his face as he could manage.

"Really guys, what would you expect of me? I made a promise to her mother, and it's one I sincerely plan on keeping." By this time he had walked over to April, and placed a consoling arm around her shoulder as Pear released her. They were both facing the Careers. "Sorry," Gale whispered, inaudible to anyone besides April herself and the microphones, as he shoved the blade in his hand into her heart. He lowered her body to the ground with as much decency as he thought he could afford, and turn back to the Careers who all had mildly perplexed looks on their faces. "What? I was just doing what her mother asked me to." Gale also began to look confused, mixed with mock horror. "Wait, I think I fucked that up. Do you think her mom had me promise _to_ kill her at the first chance I got, or not to kill her under any circumstance?" The confusion cleared, and Clove smiled.

"Don't worry, I think you got it right."

"Well that's a relief," said Gale as the others snickered. Gale gave a smile as well, forcing his mind to stop replaying the last few seconds over and over. "Now who else gets to have some fun? I've definitely been hogging the kills."

"You promised you wouldn't kill me!" Gale recognized the boy as one of the ones he had asked to retrieve people for the party.

"I said _I_ wouldn't kill you, kid, I didn't say anything about them." Gale had already distanced his mind from his voice and actions as much as humanly possible, and so he felt nothing as the boy crumbled from despair and hopelessness. "Already crying? Pathetic." Clove laughed, and a quick glance showed the other's lupine eyes were brimming with cruel anticipation.

"Let's get started then." With that, they pounced. Cato gave the first blow, slamming the kid's head back sickeningly and smashing his nose. Blood trickled down his face as they proceeded to take turns aiming their punches at his chest. Gale heard ribs snap over the sobbing, screaming, snickering and chuckling. Gale stood apart, watching the spectacle with cool disinterest. He was usually joined by one or two of the other Careers as they let someone else have their turn. Gale's gaze occasionally wandered over the carnage surrounding the Cornucopia, but he looked without seeing. He was in the process of forcing his body not to betray him. All he wanted was to push the animals away from the kid, but there was nothing he could do. Not if he wanted to win. Not if he ever wanted to go home.

"Make sure you don't knock one of his ribs into a lung." Cato nodded back at Gale, and Clove smiled in glee.

"My turn." She knelt beside the broken body, knife in hand. The boy tried to pull away, but his arms and legs refused to obey him. He had accepted his beating with minimal complaint, in a manner that spoke of years of conditioning, but when death glared in his face, he couldn't help himself. He tried to fight. He pushed a weak arm at Clove, fending her hand away from himself. Clove responded by grasping the offending arm, placing it beside him, and driving one of her knives through it. He gave a cry louder than any he had already given.

"He sure does squeal loud, doesn't he?" Glimmer had somehow managed to keep her image immaculate through the fighting, and she brushed an invisible stray hair back behind her ear. Gale only nodded in response, as they watched Clove together.

Clove herself was having the time of her life ending the small tribute's. She stabbed down and dragged the blade into his flesh, taking time on occasion to draw designs. She attacked with precision and purpose, aiming both to extract pain as well as put on a display. The boy was a bloody mess by the time she stepped back.

"Anyone else want some fun?"

"I think were good by now," said Glimmer carelessly. Cato stepped forward and drove his booted foot down onto the boy's hand. A sickening crunch, followed by a pitiful whimper rang out in the brief silence. Cato turned back to the group.

"Alright, I'm done." Gale wondered when Cato had become the unofficial leader of their group, but pinned it on the fact that he would be most likely to kill anyone disagreeing with him. It was a rather good reason.

"I get to. All I've killed so far was a little bastard from six."

"And whose fault was that, Glimmer?" Glimmer didn't bother replying, instead choosing to violently bash the prone tribute's head in with a wickedly spiked mace. The impact produced a sound Gale silently hoped to never hear again, and blood, bone, and a fluid Gale vehemently refused to guess at splashed out onto the ground.

"It took a little while to find this." Glimmer swung the mace around a few times intimidatingly.

"I hope the Gamemakers will clean that all up." Gale gestured to the slush of previously hidden materials.

"Why, can't stand the sight of blood?" Cato was always quick to jump on a chance to insult him.

"No, it'll attract ants." Gale rolled his eyes. "Anyway, are we planning on going over supplies first or letting them get rid of the bodies?"

"Definitely bodies. Going through supplies will take all day, and by then they'll have started to smell." Glimmer wrinkled her nose. There was no protest, and the Careers moved a suitable distance away from the carnage. When no hovercraft had arrived after a few minutes, they simply shrugged, and went farther away. Each was talking excitedly, and it was easy to ignore any suspicion. It was only the third time they did this that Gale began to feel uneasy.

Gale glanced at the Cornucopia. Something was off, but he couldn't tell what it was. He looked at the obscene number of bodies lying, bleeding on the ground. He had previously shrugged his discomfort off as being unused to such displays of violence, but now he wasn't certain.

"How many kills did you each say you got?" Gale interrupted Pearl, who glanced at him, irritated.

"Why do you care?"

"Something's not right. Now how many?"

"2."

"1."

"2."

"2."

"1."

"And how many of the bodies should be behind the Cornucopia right now?" The Careers shrugged.

"The two we killed when they were fighting should be there. As well as girl you shot running away, and the boy with the backpack." Gale nodded.

"That's what I thought. Any else?" Silence greeted him, and Gale continued, more sure of himself. "And I got four. None of the other tributes got anyone, right?" The Careers nodded again, and Gale frowned. "See the problem is, I can see eight bodies." It took a moment for the implication to sink in, but Cato was the first to respond.

"One of the bastards is faking?" Gale could feel the anger radiating off of him, and decided to stay the hell out of his way.

Cato's question was answered abruptly when one of the previously dead bodies stood up, and ran for cover behind the Cornucopia. Gale shot, but the bolt twanged of the metal hull of the Cornucopia, and they all started running. Marvel was the fastest, rounding the side of the golden horn first, but by then it was too late. The figure could barely be seen in the distant trees.

"Fuck," Cato screamed as he kicked the Cornucopia. Gale and Glimmer exchanged looks behind his back as Clove went forward hesitantly to comfort him. He brushed her aside.

"Son of a bitch made us look like fucking idiots. Did any of you see who it was?"

"It was a girl, and wasn't small enough to be from 11."

"And that leaves what, all the other districts?" Gale looked around the bodies, he couldn't remember what district over half of them were from.

"We can find out when the anthem plays. Now the real question is whether it's worth it to try to go after her." Silence greeted Gale as the Careers mulled over his question. Cato was again first to speak.

"Of course we do! If there's a chance of killing the whore, we need to take it."

No one was very willing to stand against Cato when he was so furious. The unhinged light Gale had occasionally seen in his eyes was back full force, and conflict within the group would only make it worse.

"Alright, some of us can go after her, the others should take care of this." Gale gestured at the supplies, and saw most of the other Careers nodding in agreement. Cato however, wasn't having it.

"The more people looking for her, the faster we can come back. None of the other tributes can be anywhere near here; let's just go, let the hovercraft take away the bodies, and kill the bitch before coming back. It won't take more than ten minutes."

"We've already been wrong once when it came to judging the audacity of the other tributes, let's not do it again."

"You _would_ say that Marvel," Cato spat out his name, "if it were up to you, we'd never take any risks, and we'd just wait here until we starved to death. These Games are about being daring, and taking risks." Marvel backed up as he could see Cato's hand edging to his sword.

"It was just a suggestion, Cato." Clove decided to reply for him before either party did anything rash.

"And it is duly considered. However, I happen to agree with Cato, lets just kill her quick and be done with it. Any objections?" She gave them a glare that clearly stated, "Yeah, he's wrong, but it's not worth challenging him over."

"Alright, then let's hurry up and go, the sooner we leave, the easier it'll be to catch her." There was no dissent, and the Careers hurried to the woods which Marvel claimed to have seen her disappear into. Gale looked closely at the trees, and saw two trails of branches broken in hasty flight. Glimmer, their other tracker, pointed out the same thing.

"Well which was her?"

"Impossible to tell," said Gale, "these things don't exactly have a time stamp on them." Cato turned on him, but Glimmer stopped him.

"Gale's right. It's fifty-fifty if we get her, but there's a tribute at the end of the trail either way."

"Then what are we waiting for, pick one." Clove was tapping her foot in impatience and eagerness to start the hunt.

"We'll go left. It looks easier to follow, which means bigger, so it's more likely not to be the girl from 11. That narrows down at least one of our chances of getting it wrong." Gale was glad Cato had chosen, that way it would be harder for him to accuse them later of misleading him. Not impossible, but harder. With that, they set off through the undergrowth, crashing through with as much noise as when one of the few horses in district 12 panicked and charged through a crowd. Gale quickly changed his gait to make more noise. He tramped through piles of leaves and paid no heed to small branches in his way.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry to anyone who liked April. It had to happen. Also, the thing that tracks the number of visitors to each page has been broken the past few days, so can people review just to say they've been here. Doesn't have to be more than a letter or a number, or a "you're stupid, why are you making me do this?" I just want to get a ballpark idea of how many people are still reading. Thanks. -Terence<strong>


	10. Men servasse

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>10. <strong>**Men servasse ut essent qui me perderent?**

They kept up a fairly steady pace. Glimmer started holding them back first, but luckily Cato was soon to follow, his hulking mass and heavy sword dragging him down. The woods were surprisingly silent other than their crashing gait, but Gale thought it was only because all the other noises had been drowned out entirely. After about half an hour, Gale realized they had chosen the wrong path. There was no way the girl could have gotten so far ahead of them, and the path wandered in a haphazard manner as if its maker had neither a clear destination nor suspicion of pursuit. Gale was anxious to turn back and save the supplies, but while Cato had slowed, he still doggedly followed the path.

The farther they went, the more often Gale took the lead. Glimmer had nearly led them down deer trails on several occasions, and without Gale, they would have soon lost their way. As it was, monotonous minutes passed, following the trail. They froze as a loud noise burst through the woods, startling some birds into shrieking flight. First one cannon went off, then many more quickly followed. Gale counted 12 shots. Half of the competition was already wiped out, but all the most dangerous were still alive. None of the now-dead tributes had done any killing, but Gale almost preferred it that way. No need to sacrifice their beliefs when they were already doomed to die.

It suddenly occurred to Gale that he had already spent three or four hours in the arena. And he was still alive. He had already exceeded the expectations of most of his district, and he had no reason to suspect his overall plan would come to an abrupt end anytime soon. Things were about as good as he could have dared to hope. In a completely ideal world, of course, the Capitol would have realized the error of their ways, called off the Hunger Games, and decided to give out enough food to feed everyone, but, Gale reflected, his life would have been pretty mundane without all the terror to keep himself occupied. He snorted quietly. People who chose danger paired with excitement over monotone peacefulness had never seen their baby brothers and sisters inches from starvation, or waited desperately to hear if loved ones had been killed.

Gale had been fourteen at the time of his father's death. When the warning sirens had punctuated his daily routine with their call, Gale had felt only guilty relief. He had been busy failing an English exam, and was grateful for the intrusion, despite its ominous origin. Only once eight short whistle blasts had sounded, did Gale grow minutely concerned. The long siren indicated there had been a cave-in in one of the mines; the clarifying whistle blasts announced the number of men still missing. Students around Gale had hastily packed their belongings, and rushed to comfort younger siblings and assuage or confirm their fears by reading the notice boards posted by the creaking, rusty, elevators. Gale had mimicked their initial movements, but once he cleared the door, his pace slowed. He had no siblings in school to comfort, and long years of false alarms had dulled his capacity to fret.

Instead, Gale had practically bounced as he set off, not for either home or the notice boards, but rather for the woods, thrilled with the prospect of extra time alone. He had spent a few cheerful hours setting snares and attempting to catch animals in surprise attacks, but as the day grew cold he had returned to the city. The streets had been unusually quiet, and Gale had finally begun to feel ill at ease. The mines were still billowing soot, but the rhythmic pounding of heavy machinery had abated. Gale had begun unconsciously quickening his pace, the light scrape of his boots on pavement becoming more frequent and pronounced, and echoing through the empty streets. No machinery meant missing men, and Gale had been ashamed to have left when his father was sure to be infusing the house with his worry. The boy had clutched the single rabbit he had been able to produce closer as he entered the Seam, and made himself as unnoteworthy as possible.

Thievery was punishable by death or whipping, but law enforcement had grown lax under years of guidance by a lazy supervisor. He doubted many were bold enough to accost him in the open when his knife was prominently displayed, but the frigid weather made district 12's starving inhabitants desperate. Gale had felt no trepidation as he approached the door to his house, only the slight reluctance that comes with an unpleasant task. The sight of his family, huddled around the table brought him up short.

"Where have you been?"

"Setting up snares."

"How many times have I told you to warn us before you disappear like that. The power could have been turned on. You could have been stuck out there for hours."

"It's not like you'd have been any help if that happened."

"Gale Hawthorne."

"Fine, Fine." Gale had set his kill on the table before sitting to remove his icy boots. "I'll have to start setting out earlier if I want to catch any light. Gets darker by the day." In the silence after his response, Gale had finally noticed the light sniffling coming from Vic.

"Hey buddy, what's wrong." Gale had knelt, bringing his eyes even with Vic's red ones. But Vic only shook his head. "Look what's the matter with all of you?" As Gale stood, he became hyper aware of his family's unease. He had backtracked, eyes widened in confusion, ice having flooded his stomach.

"Gale." Gale had shaken his head vigorously, and bolted out of the house, boots half-unlaced. He had sprinted for the message boards, skidding on the ice road several times but only falling once. It did not him halt him long. A small crowd of the agitated and the macabrely curious citizens had still been clustered around the shaft, and they had no time to make room for Gale before he collided with them in his haste to read the board. He had scanned the words quickly, and there he found it, under the title "missing," between Martin Everdeen, and Randle Mettle. Rowan Hawthorne. Gale had taken a step back, and waited, unspeaking with the remainder of the crowd.

Waited as bodies of injured men had been brought forth, but never the one he wanted. Waited, as bits and pieces of what everyone assumed was Mr. Everdeen had been brought fraction-by-fraction to the surface and reassembled piecemeal upon arrival. Waited long into the night, as one final, unmoving, body had been brought forth from the pit, a body covered in a white cloth, sullied by its proximity to the mine. He hadn't needed to know any more, but Gale had not yet developed his ability to disconnect his ears from his head. Words had crept through, unbidden by both the speaker and the listener. "Couldn't get to him in time." "Suffocated, by my guess." "Nah, he was crushed look at his legs." "Real shame, I liked him." "Probably got trapped by that rock, I'm surprised it didn't go clean through his thigh." "You all know he was the only one to trust that tunnel." "Would have been better if it had. Then he could have made it out before the air got bad. Or at least would have bled out. Not a clue how long it took." "I didn't. Always said he was a self-righteous pig, and look where it got him." "Idiot. Shame Everdeen had to go down too." The chatter which arose at the new development was deafening, and but it took a long time for Gale to force his feet toward home.

"Hey, kid. You're Hawthorne's boy, right," Gale turned back, and was greeted by two darkened workers.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry about your father. He was a good man."

Nod.

"Sorry if it's insensitive, but what'd you have us do with the body?"

"The boy can't carry it home himself. Use your common sense."

"What are you doing with Everdeen?"

"The Mrs. hasn't shown up yet. Sent the two little girls home when they got the news."

"Leave him for now. I'll come back when I know what my mother wants done." Gale hated to leave him lying, but he couldn't yet connect the faceless body on the ground with the serious man who had treated him like an equal, and spoken to him for long hours in front of a dying fire.

"Good man." The worker had clapped Gale on the shoulder as he turned to leave again. Gale had trudged alone back though the darkened streets to his home.

Gale was the first to spot their quarry. Under normal circumstances, he would have either crept silently closer, or killed his prey from a distance with a simple, clean shot. Instead he nudged Cato, pointed out his discovery, and watched in skepticism as Cato bellowed and charged like an angry bear. The girl let out a small shriek, and sprinted away. Vigor infused the weary Careers as they bolted after her. Gale was not a sprinter, so it was no great challenge for him to hang back. Marvel dramatically decided to forgo weapons entirely and sprung at her once she was within range, tackling her to the ground. The others were quickly upon them.

Gale knew instantly that it was the wrong girl. She carried only a small packet of matches, and an unloaded slingshot. At the very least, the one they were looking for would have been intelligent enough to grab good supplies and use them to her advantage. Gale thus felt not even faint respect or pity for the girl before him.

"We played with the last one, and I want to get back to the Cornucopia. Who'll do the honors?" Cato was speaking rationally for once, and the Careers had no reason to argue.

"Mine," said Marvel. Pearl made a move to object, but he silenced her with a look. "Knife." Clove let him borrow one of hers as he one-handedly restrained the struggling tribute. She was blubbering incoherently, but the sight was nothing compared to the boy-tribute's gruesome death only hours before, and Gale felt little urge to step in, much to his own unease. Marvel drove his knife into her side without any further delay. Gale could see he hadn't been able to get a good angle on her from the way she was squirming, and he knew it would take her hours to die. The girl, in her first sensible act, feigned unconsciousness. Marvel dropped her unceremoniously, and stood. "Lets head back, the cannon'll go off when we've started.

The others turned back and started jogging, but Gale stooped down next to the girl. "It's really for your own good. You wouldn't live with a stomach wound like that anyway." Gale put his hand over her mouth, but her eyes grew wide with fear as he tore out the knife and replaced it in a much more lethal area. He turned and quickly ran to catch up to the other Careers before her cannon sounded. He needn't have bothered. None of them looked back, probably out of an accurately placed fear of showing weakness.

The return journey was much quicker, as they had no need to stop and look carefully for the trail. They had paved the way so blatantly even the most urbanized of Capitol Citizens could have found it. Gale checked himself. There was no need to exaggerate, and the most ignorant of the Capitol's population probably couldn't even distinguish one plant from another, much less follow any trail not marked by concrete.

The miles of jogging left Gale in a peculiar state of mind. Thoughts passed in and out without inspection, like he was on the verge of sleep. He paid no mind to them, and the primitive mindset he always encountered while hunting in the woods took over. His thoughts darted from reasoning out the intricacies of the Capitol's motives to the instinctive movements of where to step next, without the slightest hesitance. He latched his mind onto the simpler, more pleasant topics such as reasoning out the few items he had seen on the Cornucopia. He needed to stay far away from dangerous topics. It would be impossible to vent if he became worked up over the incomprehensibility of the Capitol's cruelty.

More than two hours had passed since they had abandoned the Cornucopia, and Gale could feel the tension in the group rising. Cato was too stubborn to admit he had made an error, and his frustration with himself was projected at the others.

"Hurry up. We haven't got all day." They quickened their pace, but it was still another hour before they reached the edge of the woods. A figure was crouched on the ground, and Cato nodded to Gale, who already had his bow ready. Gale was just releasing his arrow when Marvel pushed his hand out of the way. The arrow went wide, and the tribute looked around in fear. Gale turned on Marvel, who hushed him before whispering, "Something's not right." Gale moved to respond, but was instead distracted by a large explosion. It shook the earth around them, and they all unconsciously ducked for cover. Gale peaked his head around a bush when the shaking stopped. The figure, which Gale recognized as the boy from 3, stood facing in their direction.

"Don't move, or I'll blow you all up." Gale doubted the boy could make good on his threat, or he would have already done so, but the explosion had caught him off guard. There was a new variable in play, and he would have to see how he could work it to his advantage.

"How did you do that?" Glimmer had wisely decided to lead negotiations before Cato could speak up.

"I've rigged the mines from under the launch pads. I was wondering if you wanted to make a deal with me." Gale had to admit he had guts. And brains. No one had ever taken advantage of the mines in such an ingenious way before. Between him and the girl who had hidden among the dead, it appeared there was much more intelligence in the arena than he had suspected. Hopefully it wouldn't end up mattering.

"What kind of deal?" Cato cut in suspiciously before Glimmer could formulate a more diplomatic response.

"I set up the mines to guard the stuff in the Cornucopia, you protect me, and neither of us kills each other for the time being." Gale didn't like it. If the boy was half as smart as Gale thought he was, he would kill the lot of them at the first available opportunity. He whispered as much to the others.

"Yes, but think of the advantages. He can set up a much better defense system than we could have thought up, and one more person can help with guard shifts," countered Marvel.

"Besides, do you really think that punk's a threat? We can kill him as soon as his use has run out anyway," added Cato dismissively. Gale saw Marvel frown, but didn't have long to think on it. "Alright, deal. Now don't try anything, we're coming to join you."

"And how can I know you won't double cross me?" Cato was losing patience, the past few hours had been wearing on his nerves.

"We accepted your deal, take it or leave it. Now we're coming the fuck out." Cato stood and started for the plain. Gale followed a few steps behind him and the district 1 tributes, with Pearl. His hand didn't stray far from his bow. The boy from 3 was tense, and Gale could see beads of sweat glistening on his forehead as they approached. "Now which mines have you dug out, and where are they?" The boy gestured to the upturned dirt around him.

"I've got these three dug out, but they're still inactive. Over there," the boy pointed out a spot near where they had been hiding. It was easy to see a hastily dug and refilled hole. He turned back to the Careers, and continued, "is a mine that can be set off by connecting these two wires." Two black wires sat unthreateningly in his hand. "The others are still under the pads. Once we dig them out, I can set them up to react to weight like before."

"How the hell do you know all this," said Pearl, ineloquently expressing all of their thoughts.

"I worked in a factory where they made mines back in three. Hell, I probably even made some of these myself at some point."

"Whatever. Can we go over to the supplies yet?"

"Does it look like there's any mines over there?" The boy responded sarcastically. Cato forewent discussion and punched him in the side of the face.

"Don't get smart with me kid." Cato stalked back over to the supplies, as Marvel helped the boy to his feet. The rest of the Careers followed Cato, leaving Gale alone with the kid.

"Nice trick." Gale gestured at the mines, and the boy nodded, brushing off the dirt from his clothes. "What's your name again?"

"Cobalt." The word sounded vaguely familiar, but Gale didn't think they'd ever actually talked. Gale offered his hand to him. They shook.

"Gale." He gestured for the boy to follow as he turned to go look over their spoils.

The supplies had been arranged based on how essential they were, with the most valuable items placed closest to the Cornucopia. They largely ignored the tarps and small bits of rope on the outer edges, although Gale pocketed some wire when no one was looking. The Careers identified most of the items, even ones they had only seen in other Games. Gale wouldn't have been surprised if they had watched every Game there ever was several times over. The most valuable items, in Gale's opinion, were the night vision goggles, water purification tablets, and of course the weapons. The Careers were a little more thrilled to discover water itself along with prepared food. They tore into the packs like animals, heedless of whether they would finish the rest before it spoiled. It grated against Gale's nerves to see them waste so much, but a dwindling food supply could only work to his advantage should his plan fail. Not that he would be around long enough for it to matter if his plan didn't succeed.

Among the scattered goods, there were also sleeping bags, coal, matches, and warmer jackets, from which Gale deduced that cold would come soon. That was good, as desperate tributes were easier to fool, although he doubted any would be stupid enough to light a fire without dire need. A quick squabble broke out over the benefits of using the tent for warmth versus the potential for restricted movement in case of a sudden attack. For once Cato and Gale were on the same side, but eventually Clove, Pearl, Glimmer, and Marvel won. As much as they could win, anyway. They gained the right to sleep in the tent if they wanted to, but no one would be forcing Cato to do anything.

Assembling the contraption took almost an hour. It was a complex new design, and Cato refused point-blank to help. Gale was too amused watching them struggle to be of much assistance, and he and the boy from three shared a stealthy laugh that was quickly stifled. Cobalt eventually took pity on them, and the tent flew up with little delay. After that, another discussion broke out.

"If we leave now, we might still be able to catch the bitch who took our supplies." The sun was starting its gradual decent, but Cato's enthusiasm lingered on. "If we wait till tomorrow, we may never get her."

"We'll get her eventually," Marvel smirked. "Besides, what about these mines."

"If you want to try setting explosives in the dark, be my guest. Survival of the fittest."

Marvel rolled his eyes. "We can start digging holes. It has to get done sometime anyway."

"I volunteer for hunting duty," Glimmer immediately stated. Clove laughed.

"Of course _you _would. I'm staying here. I've had enough tramping through the woods."

"Well, I'm going. I've only got one kill so far." Pearl looked rather put out by the prospect.

"Your own fault." If Cato had been anyone else, he would have been bouncing in eagerness to leave. "That leaves you. Coming or staying?"

Gale didn't have to think long. "Staying. I think four's pretty respectable for a first day." Gale flashed a smirk, which Cato didn't return.

"Let's go." He turned and stalked into the woods without further ado. Glimmer stopped to grab some night vision goggles before departing.

"I'll try to bring him back before dawn." She rolled her eyes, and Gale gave her a sympathetic look. She started to follow him, but Gale interrupted her.

"Staying the night with Cato, very risqué." Glimmer didn't even look back, flicking him off without pause.

"Ouch, Gale, trouble in paradise?" Gale turned to Clove, who was laughing.

"If this was paradise, there'd be a little less bugs," he joked, swatting at an imaginary insect.

"Careful, if you ask for it they'll give it to you." Gale was sure to keep the discussion light. There was always a chance the makers might curse him.

"Too true. Actually I quite enjoy this year's arena. Much better then the year with the maces." Clove nodded.

"That's the one thing I was worried about. Wouldn't trust Glimmer or Cato not to ditch the alliance real quick if they got such a good advantage."

"I'm just glad there was a bow. I know the basics of making one, but so far all my attempts have been pretty shitty."

"You can make a bow?" Clove's eyes grew wide.

"Like I said, not a real one," Gale hastily backtracked. The ability to manufacture weapons wasn't a skill worth bragging about. "The best one couldn't even hit a wild dog if the thing laid down and decided to take a nap in front of me," he joked. Clove gave a laugh that luckily sounded only a bit forced.

"You know you're supposed to impress me with your skills." She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You're not very good at the whole seducer thing." Gale grinned cheekily.

"I don't know about that. I bet I'm still closer to you right now than any of the boys back home ever got without you sticking a knife in them." Clove stopped smiling when he leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips. Gale almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to get away. He sprinted the moment he was turned around fully, and felt only a grazing punch to his back as Clove gave chase.

"Gale get the fuck back over here so I can kill you." Gale wisely headed for the woods, and scaled a nearby pine tree. Years in the woods with Katniss had severely dented his ego in the climbing department, but most of that went away at Clove's shocked expression. "How the hell did you…?" She trailed off before starting again. "Get down here this instant."

"I don't know if that's a great idea. I like my body un-stabbed, thank you very much."

"Stab you is the least I'm going to do. I'll skin you, take your head off, put it on a stake and leave it outside my house as a warning. Vultures'll peck out your eyes before anyone cares enough to take it down, and I'll feed your body to a pack of hungry dogs." Gale made to reply, but Marvel cut in before him.

"Quit flirting, you two. We need to get started with these holes." Marvel was distinctly unimpressed with their childish behavior. Cobalt stood behind him, paying attention only to the complex circuitry in his hands.

"I don't think I want to come down."

"Gale, shut the fuck up, and get down here." Marvel's tone left no room for argument, and Gale didn't think he was above cutting the tree down to get Gale out of it.

"Can do." Gale saluted him mockingly, with exaggerated enthusiasm that he didn't feel in the slightest. He had caught sight of a small dark shadow hidden in the top of the tree adjacent to him. It was pressed against the trunk, but there was no mistaking it. The little girl from 11 had decided to remain close to the Career's main camp. There certainly was no shortage of bold tributes this Game. Gale caught her eye, and she sheepishly pulled away from the shadows. A quick glance down showed Clove walking back to the Cornucopia and no one paying them any mind.

Gale made up his mind, knowing he would probably regret his decision. He pointed at the girl, pointed deeper into the woods, pointed at the ground, and then held out his knife. The message couldn't have been clearer, and the girl nodded hastily, seeing her reprieve for what it was. Before Gale could mime anything else, however, the girl startled him by leaping from the tree. She landed gracefully in another, deeper in, as Gale looked on in admiration.

"Cool trick," he murmured, just loud enough for the microphones to pick up. Already part of him bemoaned his idiocy. He had shown himself to be soft before the cameras. But they wouldn't be able to ignore his fourish kills, he hastily reminded himself. And the little girl would have a very difficult time hurting him once he had spared her once. Anyone from the Seam would, and it stood to reason the citizens from 11 wouldn't be much different from 12. He stopped his train of thought. She had already surprised him once with her tree climbing skills; he wouldn't underestimate her again.

Gale climbed down the tree gracefully, before quickly approaching the Cornucopia. Fortunately, none of the Careers or pseudo Careers noticed the time lapse.

"Finally. Take this, and dig here." Cobalt would have to ditch his habit of giving orders if he wanted to live long. Gale didn't mind, but he doubted Glimmer or Cato would be so understanding.

Gale's next few hours were monotonously filled digging roughly circular holes to contain the mines. And he thought he had escaped a life of digging one way or another by entering the Games. Gale was unsurprisingly much more efficient than the other Careers. While almost all of the actual mining was done with machines, that didn't stop over-exuberant gym teachers from forcing their unwilling prisoners to move dirt the old fashioned way. It was the one skill being in district 12 had granted him, and probably the one time in the history of the Games that it was being used.

It hadn't escaped him that where district seven could operate axes and eleven, and the five tributes were at home with scythes, the best he could do was dig a hole and hope someone tripped into it. Then again, if he put spikes at the bottom, that wouldn't be too awful of a skill. He would have to look into it. The sun fell as they were working, and the others quickly grew bored and decided to make a fire and sit around instead of work. Cobalt kept working of course, eager to prove his worth, but they made him stay far away as he worked by flashlight on enough explosives to kill them twenty four times over.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry to any reviewers who I haven't responded to yet, I'll get to it soon, I just decided to put up this chapter first. I hope this was a little more lighthearted, although it would have been hard not to be... Whatever. Hope you enjoyed, Please review! -Terence<strong>


	11. Ne pereant lege mane rosas

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>11<strong>. **Ne pereant lege mane rosas: Cito virgo senescit.**

Building the fire would have proved challenging without Gale, although the Capitol had even provided a little grate with wood. Clove had simply shoved all the wood in a pile, and Marvel wasn't about to correct her. Gale ultimately banned them from fire duty, and lit the thing himself, so they didn't end up with either no fire, or a huge fire, and no wood. It was interesting how their trainers had neglected such basic areas of their training, although it wasn't completely surprising. The fire was remarkably cheery, and even Marvel warmed up a bit. They laughed around it, only stopping as the anthem played.

The sky was crowded with faces, and Gale could only try to count the districts, ignoring any tributes that looked familiar. First was the girl from three, followed by Rivvet. Next was the boy from five, followed by both from six, which meant the girl from five had lived. Gale deduced she was probably their thief, especially as both from seven, eight, nine, and the girl from 10 flashed across the screen. Last was April, but Gale quickly looked away.

"The only girl left besides the puny one and us is the one from 5," said Marvel, echoing Gale's thoughts.

"I think she's called V-something."

"Does it matter?"

"Not particularly," Clove shrugged delicately. "I'd rather not refer to her constantly as the bitch from five. Gets a little repetitive."

"Well V-something really rolls off the tongue." Clove rolled her eyes at Marvel.

"Forget I said anything." A thought suddenly struck Gale.

"Did anyone see what Thresh did?"

"I saw him disappear off that edge into the field down there." Gale glanced at the sharp incline a scant hundred yards away from were they were seated, feeling a sudden cool breeze.

"We'll have to watch that side carefully. I wouldn't want him sneaking up on us in the middle of the night."

"Thresh, sneaking? He's a train, not a mouse." Gale shrugged in reply.

Discussion continued haphazardly. Occasional second-long pauses by the other tributes followed louder noises from the woods. Now that they weren't causing such a ruckus, the natural sounds of animals startled them. Several times Gale was asked to confirm that a smaller animal like a squirrel wasn't, in fact, a lurking tribute, which he did with exaggerated movements and much teasing. The moon rose, and it became clear the other Careers wouldn't return anytime soon. They packed up the food, which had been strewn around the fire at Gale's insistence to at least keep it centered in one location, and decided on a sentry.

Gale was the obvious choice, with his bow, but Clove was becoming a little anxious about the other tributes. Gale suspected she was anxious about one tribute in particular. It was strange, getting a first-hand glimpse at the bonds forming between the Careers. Experience told him they could be severed in an instant, but they seemed relatively strong. Marvel and Cobalt retired into the tent, but Gale set up his bag next to Clove. The night was frigid, but the bag was warm, and it was worth the extra security. Clove was their eyes, but she would wake Gale instantly if there was trouble. His bow lay within easy reach, one arrow already notched, several more beside it.

Despite his repeated liaisons into the woods, Gale had rarely been inside their boundaries after dark. Sunset was when the balance shifted in the woods from dangerous to deadly. Without light, a pack of wild dogs couldn't be seen until it was too late, much less shot in proper time. Gale had learned that lesson firsthand.

It was during winter, and several pitiful yields had left their families starving again. His mother was very ill, and unable to work, so the burden fell harder yet. It was then that Gale learned the full extent of his alliance with Katniss, as she gave him extra when he knew she needed it desperately as well. They were a unit. If one suffered, they both did. It didn't sit right with Gale, and he began venturing back out into the woods after they were done for the day, in the hopes of bringing in just a few more animals.

He was largely disappointed, and as he was trudging back unsuccessfully, a blur pounded into him out of nowhere throwing him to the ground. He didn't have time to think or react, his only impulse was to throw the beast off himself before its fatal jaws closed in. He managed it, eventually, and fumbled around for his knife as the animal regrouped. It sprang again, its jaws crunching into his calf. The pain distracted him, but he was able to locate his knife and bring it crashing down. The blow only glanced off its side, but the animal let go with a yip, and began slinking into the shadows.

But Gale's brain had caught up with his hands, and he couldn't let meat go, no matter the source. He lunged like a beast himself, transferring his weight into his weapon, and sinking it into the animal's back. The dog gave a pained whimper, and thrashed madly, but Gale held on. Ever so slowly its movements became lethargic as it slumped to the ground. Gale grabbed it quickly and headed to the fence. He had learned two valuable lessons, first being the danger of the woods at night. The second lesson he learned was that he needed to sharpen his skills with a knife.

Whether due to his final thoughts before dropping off, or his proximity to the wilderness, Gale dreamt of Katniss. They were on a hill, waiting silently for prey to pass before them. There was no urgency in their vigil, only the quiet laziness of summer. Gale had a sense that they had been waiting a long time, when the bushes opposite them rustled. Gale shot an arrow into the woods without pause, and a shriek came in return. April stumbled out of the foliage, clutching the fletching of an arrow that had sunk deep into her chest.

"Why?" Her confused, accusing eyes stared long after her body fell into the dirt. Katniss turned to him in repulsion.

"How could you Gale?" Gale fumbled with his words.

"I had to, I-" Gale was cut off as three other tributes ran before them, like a family of rabbits rushing into their holes to escape danger. He could only watch as his body betrayed him, arm mechanically pulling back the string and releasing it. Arrows protruded from their corpses, and it was only then that Gale recognized their faces. The girls from six and nine, as well as Cobalt's district partner. Their faces were empty, as if their humanity had been hollowed out from the inside, and discarded into some forgotten wasteland. Katniss cried out beside him, and began backing away.

"You're safe, there's only the two of us left." Katniss backtracked further, a rabbit ensnared and frightened. Gale could only watch in abject horror as his hands moved once again without his bidding. He woke only as his arrow pierced her skull.

"Katniss-" He stifled his voice quickly, but there was no escaping Clove's watchful gaze. Gale cursed himself, hoping he hadn't reveled too much talking in his sleep.

"Who's Katniss, your girlfriend?" There was a keen look on Clove's face that Gale didn't appreciate.

"If she were, then she'd be a pretty bad one making me scream like that," Gale joked back with all the levity he could manage.

"Then who was she?"

"She was one of my friends. Died in a mine explosion more then a year ago." The sorrow in his voice was real as he thought of another person who had died in a similar manner.

"Ouch. Sorry I mentioned it."

"No big deal. One less person to worry about me when you end up winning this thing." Gale had noticed most of the Careers were fans of graveyard humor. Clove stuck up her nose snootily.

"As if anyone would worry about you in the first place." Gale laughed.

"You'd best get some sleep then. Even Finnick Odair couldn't have won if he didn't rest. And I think we'll all need to be in our best moods to deal with Cato tomorrow." Clove pulled a face.

"Don't remind me. Night." Clove stalked into the tent. Nothing was going to make _her_ sleep in the wilderness without at least some cover from the biting insects and icy air. Gale moved to sit on top of the Cornucopia. Where Clove had been sitting wasn't the best vantage point, although it was closer to the dying fire. The metal Cornucopia bit at his hands as he climbed, but once he had settled into his sleeping bag again, it wasn't too bad. He scanned the perimeter for signs of movement. He could see a full circle around the open area between the Cornucopia and the woods, lake, and plain, with some stretching. His ready bow was slung over his shoulder, and all there was left to do was wait.

Waiting for prey was obviously nothing new to him, but hoping to end his vigil empty-handed was a novel experience. The night was noisy, with frogs and insects announcing their importance with the fanfare of kings. He was startled a few times by screech owls, but, as he had recently learned, their forged screams didn't have anything on the real thing. The night was eerily still for such noise, and all he saw was a wandering raccoon, and several bold hares grazing across the short grass. Their enjoyment of the night was cut short by one of the aforementioned screech owls, and their warren would number one less as they drifted off to sleep. He occasionally noticed his gaze fixing on the grassy plain to the left of the lake, and had to force himself to survey the entire perimeter.

The stars slowly turned, and the sky began to lighten minutely. Gale estimated only a few hours had passed since his nightmare had woken him. The calls of birds quickly rose up in a cacophony as they woke, but the Careers did not stir. They, like the Capitol's citizens, weren't big on early starts to the day. They slept through the morning anthem, which showed no new faces. Even Cobalt did not rise until what Gale estimated to be around nine. Gale gave him a quick nod, and Cobalt set to work immediately. Gale watched, for lack of any other entertainment.

The boy's movements were sure, and his hands moved quickly in patterns Gale could vaguely acknowledge but not understand or predict. Whatever he was doing was a practiced motion, and as natural to him as laying snares was to Gale. Around half of the holes for the mines had been dug the previous night before the sun had abandoned work, but only a few actual mines had been excavated. Gale yearned to examine both the mines themselves and the trap the boy had planned, but he restrained himself. It would be no use getting blown to pieces just to satisfy curiosity. Instead he gazed upon the scene with as detached an interest as he could manage, casually glancing at the rest of his watch zone on regular intervals.

A string of crashes from the woods announced the hunting party's return. Gale withdrew his hand from where it had instinctively grasped at his bow, and instead gave a welcoming wave with it. He knew they would all be in a foul mood after a night with no sleep and nothing to show for it, so he remained as neutral as possible. As they approached, Gale noticed a large bruise on Glimmer's face, and didn't have to guess much at its origin. Cato looked fit to murder someone, and Pearl too looked irritated. Glimmer looked pissed off, but subdued. She smiled, however, at Gale's wave.

"Cobalt, get Marvel up, he's had enough beauty sleep." Cobalt did as he was told, but his reluctance to be pulled away from his work was evident.

"Don't even ask." Cato brushed past Gale into the tent, with Pearl following after. He heard some talking, and Marvel came out with a forced smile on his face.

"Where's breakfast." Gale gestured at one of the packets and Marvel's gave a genuine smile when he realized it contained coffee.

"Thank you, Gamemakers." Gale felt eyes on him, and realized Glimmer still hadn't gone to bed. Her bruise had been mostly covered by something, but its tone didn't quite match the rest of her skin. He supposed its purpose might be to aid in healing rather than conceal, but didn't think long on it.

"Hey, Gale." She looked tired, and Gale put on the charm.

"Why hello, Glimmer. Haven't seen much of you since the start of the Games." The innuendo was painfully obvious, and it cheered Glimmer's mood. Or at least prompted her to hide it better.

"I feel like we can change that." Marvel gave them a look from where he was eating his breakfast, but only rolled his eyes as Glimmer pulled him behind the Cornucopia. As soon as they were out of sight, he flipped her around and pressed her against the harsh metal, kissing her passionately. She returned the kiss with equal fervor, and they spent the next half hour entertaining the capitol citizens. Gale prayed no one from back home had been watching, although he doubted he could be so lucky. He should have warned Katniss not to watch certain parts, although some of his male friends were probably impressed with his exploits. Before heading back to the rest of the Careers Glimmer stopped him.

"I'm really glad you're alright." She gave him a soft kiss before leaving him confused and alone. There had been something desperate in her eyes, but Gale knew it was all just an act. He followed her, but she had already disappeared into the tent. Marvel was watching Cobalt, who was absorbed in his work, but the flushed looks on both their faces indicated it hadn't always been the case. Gale rolled his eyes and hoped Clove would wake up soon.

"Can the two of you dig up the rest of the mines real quick? Promise they won't go off." Cobalt looked entirely too cheerful, and Gale and Marvel exchanged a look.

"Show us how to dig one up first. That one." Gale chose a random mine, and they watched attentively, but from a secure distance as Cobalt carelessly dug it up. It took a while, bud there didn't seem to be any particular danger or need for care. Gale took up one of the shovels they had gotten from sponsors and stared digging. He continued mechanically removing dirt until noon, by which time he had uncovered the last one. Marvel was making slightly slower progress beside him, finishing his final mine. Clove joined them shortly before lunch, but the others showed no signs of rising.

Gale and Marvel were happy for the excuse to stop and eat with Clove, but Cobalt seemed irritated with their break. Gale held no sympathy for his frustration at their slow progress, as their continued breaks would actually extend the boy's life. Food was plentiful, and Gale was amazed at how much the Careers ate. They consumed full meals that would have carried him through a full day at home, and they ate three of them, along with snacks. Gale was no longer at all surprised at their size, except maybe at how they stopped from becoming too fat to move. He attempted to mimic them, but soon learned it wasn't worth it. His body couldn't handle so much after so many years of conditioning by way of starvation. Cobalt was much the same way, and Gale wondered if they faced the same danger of "pneumonia" in district 3 that was so common a killer in 12.

Gale napped through the afternoon. There was surprisingly little urgency in their actions, and he wanted to catch up on the sleep his nightmare had lost him. A few hours of sleep would sustain him for days at a time, but if it wasn't necessary there was no point in weakening himself. Gale's rest was thankfully devoid of dreams, but it was ruined after only a few hours by a swift kick to his side. Gale rolled away from his aggressor, snatching his knife and sliding out of his strategically half-open bag into a crouch. At which point he fell on his face as the rest of the bag was torn from under him.

"Doesn't count, Cato. He was definitely up until you got involved."

"At what point did we specify I wasn't allowed to push him? It's your own fault for not clarifying." A hand reached down to Gale, and he pulled himself up.

"Alright, who kicked me?" Fingers unanimously pointed at Clove, who held up her hands placatingly.

"They made me do it." Gale rolled his eyes.

"The problem with you people is that you're all equally guilty. I'd feel unjust only killing one of you for your insolence." Gale was wearing his haughtiest expression, one he usually reserved for mocking the Capitol elite in the woods. It took some concentration to avoid putting on the accent. That wouldn't have earned him any favor.

"We wanted to let you know it's hunting time. Screw digging, Cobalt can hold fort. I trust him not to do anything completely idiotic." Cato had raised his voice, but Cobalt didn't fall for the bait, and continued working. "We're leaving now, get your stuff." Gale had started preparing the moment Cato announced his plans, and was soon ready. He didn't have much more to grab. His bow and knife were already on him at all times, and all he had to do was snag a water canister with a strap he that could secure to himself without wasting one of his hands.

They tramped through the woods, pushing birds and beasts from their intended paths to flee into their safe havens in trees and underground. The middle ground was home to the predators. A small shade, too large to be a bird, braced itself against a large pine, but the Careers took no notice. The sun streamed through the trees, baking the air with its rays, and the Careers often paused to splash more water down their throats, heedless of how much was wasted spilling down their fronts and washing their clothes.

Gnats buzzed at their ears, and although they did not sting, they got in the tributes eyes, which proved irksome. Cato led the way, following trail after fabricated trail, but the others made no move to correct him. Gale for one saw no reason to, and the others may not have noticed that the only thing that could possibly lie at the end of their path was a deer. If they were lucky. If they were unlucky, it could just as easily be a bear or some other angry predator. Gale hung back, unperturbed by the prospect, but unwilling to experience first hand the consequences of any mishap.

Clove and Pearl followed Cato, eager dogs baying at his heels, but Marvel, Glimmer, and Gale lagged behind. Marvel was not built for distance, although he vainly attempted to hide his difficulty. Glimmer and Gale conversed nonverbally from time to time, a subtle nod here, an eye flick there. They bantered back and forth soundlessly as best they could. Gale soon held aside branches elegantly, and held his hand to help her over nonexistent obstacles. Glimmer, for her part, barely accepted his hand, though a glint in her eyes betrayed her amusement.

Gale stumbled headlong into a tree after a particularly flamboyant movement, and Glimmer wasn't able to stifle a snicker. Cato looked back, startled by the sudden noise, but rolled his eyes and turned back at their innocent expressions. Their flirting slackened after the interruption, and soon died out entirely. They continued in silence, alert for any sign of activity. They waited in vain, but it did not damper their spirits. Cato forged on ahead, silently encouraging them each to outdo him in their zealous pursuit of an imaginary tribute. The sky grew steadily darker, and suddenly they were unable to see more than a few feet ahead. The anthem blazed, but they continued on, uninterrupted.

Mosquitoes assaulted their faces, but the bites did not discourage Gale. They were irritating, but he had been exposed to their poison often enough that he had learned to pay them no mind. The others faired worse, and it was not long before Gale's keen eyes spotted the white silk of a parachute. Clove snatched it out of the air, and gratefully applied the lotion within. The insects fled, and the night was quieter without their steady buzz. The Career's progress slowed as even the branches and roots immediately before them became indistinguishable from the inky blackness all around. The stars gleamed overhead, but without the moon, their light proved inadequate.

"It's useless." Pearl, bolder then the others, was first to protest. "I'm not going another night with no sleep, and we don't have enough of the goggles, unless someone thought to bring matches." Gale feigned ignorance, and he saw Marvel move to grasp one of his pockets.

"Fine, pussy. Go on back," Cato sneered, "always thought you'd be the first to chicken out." Pearl slapped him, and Cato growled back, reaching for his weapon. Clove held him back.

"It's no use fighting like this. Pearl you and whoever else wants to can go back. I'm staying with Cato." There was an awkward pause as the other Careers weighed the pros and cons of inaction. Marvel spoke first.

"I've slept enough. Hand me the other goggles." Glimmer quickly relinquished her pair, and stood by Pearl, without a word. Eyes turned to Gale, who responded with little delay. There was no real contest, as Marvel had taken their last pair of eyes.

"Someone will have to keep these two lovely ladies company." Gale flashed a grin, more for the camera's night-visioned sake than for any of the others.

"Right. See you tomorrow." Cato turned and crashed away without another word, and Gale, Pearl, and Glimmer were left in silence.

"If either of you start any of that wishy washy lovesick puppy stuff on the way back, I'll gut you." Pearl turned and started at a right angle to where the Cornucopia was, and Glimmer hastily corrected her. Glimmer seemed competent enough to follow the trail they had left behind, and navigate in roughly the correct location, although the intricacies of tracking eluded her. Gale happily allowed her to lead as they fumbled in the dark back to the Cornucopia.

Cato's trailblazing skills had forced them to wander back and forth much of the day, but even so the more direct return journey took them several hours, despite being a quarter of the distance. Pearl sighed audibly in relief as they walked out into the clearing before the Cornucopia, but Gale held her back.

"Lets go around and come in by way of the lake. I still don't really trust that brat from 3." Pearl grumbled, but inevitably acquiesced.

The moon reflected off the still surface of the lake. Stars shimmered just beneath a pane of glass. Fish ruined the illusion occasionally in their quest for a meal, and the insects hummed loudly. The trio snuck along the edge, careful not to dampen their boots in the water, but anxious to stay unnoticeable before the backdrop of the reeds. They needn't have bothered. When they called out for Cobalt to turn off the mines he didn't respond. After shouting for several minutes, as they grew steadily more anxious that they had been mislead, he finally shouted back.

"Sorry, sorry. Come on in." Gale and Glimmer exchanged looks, but Pearl just sighed and started moving.

"Finally. What took you so long?" They approached the camp, stumbling over the haphazardly arranged items strewn over the ground.

Cobalt took in their appearance and relaxed.

"Fell asleep. On the bright side I finished the rest of the mines. All that's left is to re-bury them. Shouldn't take more then a couple hours."

"And how will we get to and from the supplies once they're all set up?" Cobalt brushed away Glimmer's question with his hand.

"I've set up a makeshift control box. Can turn them on and off from over behind those trees. We can leave them off until we leave."

"Whatever. Somebody light a fire, I'm starving." Cobalt handed Pearl his flashlight as she went searching for a late dinner. Glimmer followed, as Gale quickly started a small flame in the middle of the brush they had already collected. It rose into an inferno before dying down to the appropriate height for cooking and sitting beside. They toasted bread and ate it with dried meat. The girls complained loudly, and a small white object drifted down from the sky.

"Excellent." Pearl reached for the parcel, pulling out a small white cake. Minute flowers blossomed over its sides, their bright colors standing out even in the wavering light. "At least dessert will be decent. Thank you sponsors."

Gale dug into the cake with curiosity, and a ting of nostalgia. He, along with all the other children of the Seam had crouched with envy around the bakery as the district's wealthier citizens splurged on the delicacies. He had long ago come to terms with the fact that he would never be able to have a taste himself, and for his childhood dream to be fulfilled here was irritating beyond belief. Despite his inhibitions, he proceeded to feed Glimmer the cake with one of the small forks that had been provided, their actions a caricature of some of the love-enthused couples he had seen flaunting their happiness around district 12. Usually those same couples could be seen scant months later fretting over growing stomachs and shrinking money supplies. Pearl gagged in the background, and Cobalt stood uncertain of whether to join her in voicing his opinion.

"I'm not watching any more of this. Good night." She turned toward the tents, and then turned back. "Come on Cobalt, you don't want to see any more of that." The duo disappeared into the tent, leaving the couple all alone. Gale did his best to forget about the cameras, with minimal success. They were passionate, but didn't talk. Glimmer's lips were heavy on his, but Gale controlled their kisses. A distant part of him registered that he enjoyed it more without the layers of makeup all over her face. They eventually stopped, for the sake of their allies' rest, as Gale insisted with a significant look.

"You rest. I'll take first watch," said Gale, ever the gentleman before the cameras.

"Thanks. Goodnight." She leaned in for a soft parting kiss, and Gale was struck by the similarity between it and the kisses he had seen his parents exchange on occasion before the mine accident.

"Night love." Gale regretfully put out the fire, as it would kill his night vision, and climbed atop the Cornucopia, sleeping bag in hand. Once he was aloft, he slipped in and gazed at the horizon as his eyes slowly adjusted. It was a pain not having goggles, but he could cope. He certainly wasn't about to waste his sponsor's money on a new set just for one night's convenience. Gale fidgeted with his bow, the night air chilling his arms and seeping under his clothes where they weren't protected by a layer of sleeping bag. He resigned himself to a long night.

* * *

><p><strong>IMPORTANT: In honor of the movie, I will be releasing ANOTHER CHAPTER at 67 Pacific Daylight Time, for all the United States readers to enjoy while they wait in the cold outside theaters. I have no idea when the international release is for the movie, so... can't help the rest of you :) Sorry about all the bold, I feel like not everyone reads authors notes, and I don't want them to miss out. Review! -Terence**


	12. Et subito, Lupus Factus Est

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>12. Et subito, lupus factus est.<strong>

A distant howl cut through the air, followed by another closer to the campsite. Gale gripped his bow tighter, his primal fears fueled by lifetime experience. If a pack of dogs became bold enough to attack, it would be his job to strike them down before they could devour the others in their beds. More howls sounded around him, and he could hear faint yips as some of the animals greeted each other. Fourteen dark shapes emerged out of the forest, and Gale readied his bow, but waited. He didn't want to attract their attention, or give them cause to attack. They were still a considerable distance away, and weren't turned in his direction, but something about them set him on edge. Gale threw down one of his arrows, and it glanced off the tent. Pearl, Glimmer, and even Cobalt emerged, already wakened by the animals' cries. Gale gestured at the shapes, illuminated by the moon, and Pearl and Glimmer reached for their weapons. Gale studied them at a distance as the others assembled.

"Wait. I don't want to attack them unless it's necessary."

"Why the hell not? Imagine how pissed Cato'll be that we got some action and he didn't." Glimmer nodded in agreement, and Gale forced a smile on his face, berating himself. He needed to act more like a Career.

"Just wait a moment. Something's not right." At that moment one of the wolves stood on it's hind paws, and Gale could only stare.

"What the… Gale, wolves don't normally…"

"No. Mutts." It was the only logical explanation. "Which means we may as well attack before they do."

Gale loosened his first bolt. It arced through the air before drawing a pained cry from one of the beasts as it struck the animal's heart. The pack's leisurely movements became agitated, and enraged cries rose up. He downed another, and the mutts charged. Pearl hurtled toward them, headless of the danger, with Glimmer in hot pursuit. The pack did not take long to find its targets, and the animals turned their fury on the strange new prey. Glimmer's wicked mace glinted as it caught one of the dogs-things mid-leap. Two others had fallen to Pearl's spear before Cobalt arrived.

By then, the pack had re-grouped and surrounded his allies, and Gale didn't want to risk another shot. Instead he leapt off the Cornucopia, and darted into the fight. He cursed the Gamemakers mentally. Going hand to hand was just asking for trouble, but he had no other choice. The audience would never let him live it down if he proved coward. One of the beasts spun at him as he approached, and let off an unnerving screech before lunging, white jaws snapping shut inches from Gale's arm. Its jump had easily carried it twenty feet, and several of its companions turned to the new distraction. Gale drove his knife toward the beast's face, but missed hitting its shoulder. It screamed again, and jumped back, giving Gale enough time to dodge another, smaller, creature as it pounced. Gale thought quickly, and dropped his knife to loose a bolt into the offending beast. It fell back, dead, but another took its place instantly, and Gale realized he was surrounded as the first beast swiped at his side.

Gale smashed its head with his bow, but the beast continued its assault undeterred. Fangs grazed Gale's arm as he used it to block a bite aimed at his throat. Gale kicked the mutt's chest, and it relinquished his arm, falling to the ground. He pushed through the pain in his arm to send an abrupt arrow into the neck of the dazed beast, finally bring it down for good. He ducked as another animal leapt neatly over his head, and grasped at the knife lying at his feet to stab the mouth of another yapping animal. Its razor-sharp teeth grazed his hand, and tracks of blood made his blade's handle slippery. Gale turned and only had time to look up as a final animal lunged for the kill.

A spear took the aggression from its attack, but the beast's momentum carried the mutt into Gale and he was knocked to the ground. The smell of sweat and blood invaded his nostrils, but thankfully the staring eye inches from his face held no life behind it. With an enormous effort, he was able to shove the animal off of himself. Heavy breathing was the only sound that greeted him, and Gale sat back to take stock of his injuries. One beast had left a small gash in his sweatshirt with its claws, but thankfully it had barely drawn blood. The bite to his arm was moderately more severe, but Gale knew he was lucky the crushing jaws hadn't broken bone. His right hand stung whenever he bent it, but as long as infection didn't set in, it wasn't serious. He had hunted through worse injuries after an idiotic encounter with a grumpy badger.

Gale pulled himself to his feet and casually walked forward to retrieved his spent arrows, wiping the blood off on the animal's coats. The others stood panting, but apart from the way Cobalt held his foot, none seemed badly injured.

"That was fun." Pearl nodded in agreement, a breathless smile on her face. Cobalt was silent, but his hands shook slightly as knelt down to retrieve his spear from the animal it had stuck in. Gale gave him as small nod of acknowledgement at his kill, which the boy returned.

"What the hell were they?" Gale nudged one of the bodies with his foot.

"Part wolf, part something else. Did you see the way they stood on their hind legs?" Even dead, there was an ominous air about the mutts, and Gale leaned forward for a better look. Their bodies were thinner and longer than wolves, and each paw had surprisingly defined toes, with several-inch long black claws jutting out. Gale was torn from his observations by Cobalt.

"Oh God. Look at the eyes." Gale threw him a curious glance before looking down. Once Cobalt had pointed them out, the eyes did look particularly odd. Out of place on the lupine face. Gale quite place a word to describe them.

"I don't see what the… Oh." Realization dawned suddenly, and refused to go away.

"What?"

"Human. Part wolf, part human. That's what genes they mixed with them mutts, look." Gale's instinctive distrust of the mutts had been well placed, and if he were a dog, his hackles would have been raised at the sight.

"Fascinating. The Gamemakers modeled them after the other tributes." Cobalt knelt next to one of the bodies. "This one looks just like Ferris." Gale looked at the wolves which had surrounded him.

"Do you think they gave them any memories." Pearl, thankfully, look at least slightly uneasy with the idea.

"Must have. Look who went after Gale." Glimmer spoke up for the first time, and although she didn't seem concerned by the turn of events, she looked a little off. Her hair was messy, and some blood had begun drying near her eye. Gale glanced quickly at the bodies near his feet, but turned away quickly as he recognized a wolf-April in the dirt, snarl of hatred still etched on its face.

"Think we should do anything?"

"Like what, bury them?" Glimmer laughed and Cobalt turned slightly red.

"No I just meant-"

"Whatever." She gave an artful yawn. "Lets go back to bed."

They walked as a unit back to the campsite, the flood of adrenaline putting a spring in their steps. Glimmer and Pearl laughingly re-enacted Cobalt's expression at the first wolf's attack, and Gale smiled along offering mocking praise. After hastily patching their wounds, they chatted in the dark for a time. Once the excitement wore off, the other tributes went back to the tent. None bothered to offer to take Gale's place on watch, and he lazily made his way back on to the Cornucopia. The rest of the night passed without event, and Gale once again watched the sun rise.

Cobalt limped out of the tent first, and Gale gave him only a simple nod before climbing down and going to bed. It was still dark inside the Cornucopia itself, and his exhaustion quickly sent him to sleep. Sounds echoed around inside Gale's room, and he was repeatedly roused, only to drop back off. He snoozed all day, and half-heartedly watched the steady progression of the sun as it entered his domain.

* * *

><p><strong>Here's a nice short chapter to speed up your wait :) The quote is a little more obscure, but it means roughly "and suddenly he was made into a wolf." It's from a several thousand year old werewolf story from chapter 62 of the Satyricon. The werewolf bit is pretty short, only about a thousand words, and can be read without reading the rest of the book. It is a very weird, yet awesome, read, and a quick Google can find you an English copy.<strong> **Good night, REVIEW, and Happy Hunger Games!**


	13. Stat nulla diu mortalibus usquam

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>13. <strong>**Stat nulla diu mortalibus usquam, Fortua titubante, fides**

A clamor arose as the hunting party returned, but it soon died down, so he ignored it. Gale only pulled himself out of his sleep during late afternoon as footsteps approached his resting place. He jumped up quickly, not anxious for another surprise. A fist-sized rock landed where he had been lying not moments before.

"You're no fun."

"Sorry, didn't feel like getting hit in the face with a rock."

"It would have only hit your chest. Wouldn't have even hurt that bad," replied Pearl unapologetically.

"Whatever. Any reason you decided to disturb my beauty sleep?"

"As if you need it," he faintly heard her mutter before speaking up. "Hunting time. We've decided to track down Thresh." Gale stepped out into the fading light, serious once again.

"So soon?"

"Cato's getting bored with chasing shadows in the forest. He think's well have better luck out in the open."

"Fine by me, the sooner Thresh is out of the running, the better. Think he's got any allies," Gale remarked causally as the duo absentmindedly kicked up dust on the way to the fire.

"Don't think so. I didn't see him talk to anyone during training. And I can't think of a reason he'd hook up with his district partner." Gale nodded without speaking as they entered the small ring of tributes that had formed around the fire.

"Finally. What took you so long?"

"Some of us mortals need sleep, Cato."

"Did Pearl tell you the plan?"

"We're going after Thresh."

"Good. Lets go." Cato turned to the hitherto ignored section of the arena, and began marching through the short grass. Gale shrugged, and followed, careful to note that none of the other Careers were staying behind besides Cobalt, who remained tinkering with a piece of machinery. The sky was blue and the clouds were scarce as they followed invisible trails in the hard-packed earth leading to the edge of the cliff. Looking back, Gale wondered a bit at how the lake had failed to drain into the valley, before noticing that the area surrounding the Cornucopia wasn't as flat as he had previously imagined. The ground sloped almost imperceptibly, with the highest points away from the lake, right before the ground dropped off again. Gale practically stumbled into Marvel before realizing they had stopped at the drop-off down to the lower ground.

The plain stretched out into the distance. A separate ring of cliffs stood opposite them several miles away, and Gale guessed that they marked the edge of the arena. Nothing moved besides the swaying grass, and the occasional bird going about its routine. Unfortunately there was no distinct pattern in their flights to indicate something had disturbed their natural rhythms.

"Now what?" asked Pearl frankly.

"Now, we find Thresh." Cato started down the rocky hill that lead to the valley below. The drop was around forty five feet, but nothing about it suggested that the Gamemakers intended for it to be dangerous. It wasn't unmanageably steep, and as long as they were deliberate about their actions, there would be no mishap. Confident in his appraisal, Gale started walking down the slope, following Cato's lead. He hadn't finished his first step before the ground gave out unexpectedly before him. Gale grabbed at one of the sparse bushes dotting the ground, but its shallow roots gave way instantly. He continued sliding, colliding with several sharp rocks along the way, until he slid to a stop in a small, swampy, ditch. His bones ached, but Gale didn't think any were broken.

"Gale?" called a concerned Glimmer.

"Down here," he shouted back. "Walking was taking too long, so I thought I'd speed things up." He shook himself before standing shakily. He took few steps trying to climb out of the ditch, only to slip on the muddy banks. As he landed on his hands and knees, he realized he still held the unhelpful plant in his hand, and cast it to the side, disgusted. Gale stood again, wiping his muddy palms on his pants, cursing his luck, when he realized he couldn't move. Gale glanced down, only to realize the mud had oozed over his boots and up to his calves. He gave them a yank.

"Uh guys?" Gale gave another futile tug, but the boots remained firmly in place, and to make matters worse, they had sunk down another half-inch. "Guys!"

"What?" came Cato's voice from above, sounding less than pleased.

"Sticksand. Help me out!"

"We're coming, hold on," Clove shouted back from above.

Gale, despite all outward attempts at composure, was starting to panic. Sticksand, affectionately named based on its vice-like grip, had been used in many previous Games, usually only when the Gamemakers wanted to prove a point. The deaths could be drawn out for hopeless hours, or could end in mere seconds, it was entirely up to the crowd. And getting out was a matter of either quick thinking or luck. Gale began searching his surroundings desperately, but there was nothing. Even the long grasses of the prairie were out of arms reach, no matter how he contorted his body. And the mud was up to his thighs now.

"Shit," summarized Marvel as he appeared, carefully staying out of the mud's reach.

"Really?" Gale bit back sarcastically. "Here I was thinking this was a good thing. Got any rope?"

"There's some back at camp, but…" Marvel trailed off, looking at the rate at which Gale was sinking.

"Hurry." Was all Gale replied. They exchanged a look before Marvel took off. Gale began looking around for more options, knowing Marvel wouldn't be back in time to help. Glimmer and Clove arrived next, with Cato trailing close behind.

"Pearl's going slow. Doesn't want to slip. Where's Marvel?"

"Rope. But he's not going to make it. Quick, give me your jackets, I'll tie them together." Gale could see the reluctance on Cato's face, but after a quick look from Clove, he followed the girl's example. Gale caught the jackets, fastening them with quick but sure knots, before tossing the other end back to the tributes. "Pull. Hurry." The mud was around Gale's waist now, and he regretted sending Marvel away. Even with three Careers heaving on one end, the mud wasn't relinquishing its hold on Gale. If anything, it seemed to be gripping tighter.

"Pearl, get your ass over here," shouted Gale, attempting to ignore the pain as the others practically ripped his arms from his sockets. She took the situation in surprisingly quickly, grabbing the linked sweatshirts and adding her muscles to the attempt. Gale could barely keep from moaning as he felt his shoulder bones begin to separate. He dropped the jacket and clutched the injured limb, thankfully he had dropped it before it dislocated fully.

"No good. We aren't pulling you out, even with the rope."

"Well, think of something!" Gale's brain raced through different plans, each more outrageous then the next. Sticksand was one of the Gamemaker's more macabre creations. They used it to terrify, and to assert their complete dominance over the tributes. From the moment a tribute fell in, they were dead. One year a loathsome little boy had managed to escape by pushing one of his allies into the mess, stabbing her, and using her body to stand on and get out, but even he was later murdered in his sleep by a 'randomly' falling tree. Besides, Gale had a feeling the same method wouldn't work for him. "Look for a rock, a stump, anything." But there was nothing, and Gale was already up to his chest. He could barely raise his arm above the surface to grasp at the mud as he tried to pull himself closer to the banks. Above him, he could see Glimmer mirroring his panicked look, Clove looking down with faint worry, and Pearl looking vainly around for something to throw to him. Cato alone stood still, and Gale could see a quick smile of amusement steal over his face before vanishing.

A sudden idea came to him, and Gale berated himself.

"Haymitch, send me a ladder, quick." The Careers began searching the skies, but they remained clear and blue, unmarred by a saving speck of white. "_Haymitch_." Still, no parachute arrived.

"Oh, for the love of, Ruby, send us a fucking ladder. It's only a few coins," said Glimmer. Still no parachute came, and Glimmer looked around hopelessly.

"The fuck?" said Pearl. "Finnick, anyone, just send us a stupid ladder." Nothing came, and now Gale was up to his neck.

"Grab on again." Glimmer tossed him the end of the sweater rope, and Gale hooked his good hand around it as they pulled in a last unsuccessful attempt at getting him loose. They made no progress, but thankfully this time Gale's other arm didn't start to dislocate. He suspected Cato wasn't lending his weight to the effort, judging by the contemptuously contented look on his face. He doubted the girls had noticed it. The mud started leaking down the top of his shirt and into his ears as Gale strained to keep his nose and mouth above the level of the mud. Unlike with regular quicksand, sticksand refused to let you go. It pulled you all the way under the surface, rather than abandoning the process half way through, and you drowned as thick mud-water rushed down your throat and into your eyes.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," muttered Clove, as they tried vainly to pull Gale out of the substance. Gale had to close his eyes and tilt up his chin as the mud began closing in around him. He kicked out his feet in one last frantic measure, and was startled to realize one just barely grazed something solid.

"Gale!" But Gale paid Glimmer no attention, instead feeling out the hard surface below him with a foot. It remained immobile, and Gale used it to press up and stop from sinking. He felt a flood of relief.

"There's something down here. I'm standing on it!" he shouted blindly.

"What is it?"

"How the hell should I know?" Something shifted in the mud around Gale, and he began to realize his relief had been a bit presumptive. "It's moving!"

"What's it feel like?"

"Ground, but-" The ground-like material under Gale began rising, but something else continued stirring in the mud around him. His head cleared the mud once again, but he couldn't open his eyes without contaminating them with muck.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know, but-" Gale cut off again as he felt something hard and thick brush up against his side. "There's something else in here!"

"What?"

"How the fuck should I know? Can you see anything?" Gale's shoulders were now rising above the surface, but he was still trapped with whatever creature had made the mud hole its home.

"I don't know, stop thrashing for a bit." Gale forced his body to quiet, but he wanted desperately to shy away from his unknown companion.

"The muds moving a bit, it's hard to tell. Just stand still." Cato was not one to sympathize with anyone's difficulties. Gale froze as best he could. "I can just see, there's definitely something in there."

"No, shit."

"Do you want me to help you or-"

"Cato, shut up and do something productive."

"Oh, get over yourself Glimmer."

"Knock it off, both of you, we might have bigger things to worry about." Marvel's mild tone indicated he had rejoined them at some point. "Describe whatever it is."

Gale began to feel down rather then up with his good arm, ignoring the painful throbbing in his other limb as he continued to try to wrench it free. It was the same arm the wolf had already bit, and apart from its recent injury, it stung badly as muck dripped into his flesh. His fingers brushed against a long, thick object. It was as far around as his torso, and he couldn't reach either end, not that he was anxious to. The material felt vaguely familiar, until it suddenly all clicked.

"Fuck, it's a snake."

"What?"

"A snake, it's a huge fucking snake. Fuck, I should have guessed."

"How big is it."

"No clue, twenty feet, thirty? How big was the one in the Games with the swamp."

"32."

"Shit," summarized Pearl.

"Can you tell where its head is?"

"No, we can just see the mud moving around. Try not to piss it off."

"Easy for you to say." The platform under Gale's feet was still rising, and he could feel the mud dripping off his shoulders. "Someone toss me something not covered in shit. I need to see." He felt something land in his hand, and he quickly wiped his face before opening his eyes. The world looked strange after spending so much time in the dark, but Gale ignored the feeling. He could see the Careers arranged around him, and the immense coils of the snake disturbing the mud. "Think I should stab it?"

"No, that'll just make it angry. I doubt you could do any damage."

"Then what's the plan, sit here calmly until it decides to bite?" he asked, trying to mask his fear with sarcasm.

"Lets just all hit it at once, and see if that does anything. I doubt it can move very quick in all that mud."

"Good plan, on three. One, two, three." Gale stabbed the part of the snake nearest his chest, as two spears entered the mud around him. Glimmer and Cato stood around useless, but the spears clearly hit something, as the beast began to writhe, moving the spears imbedded inside it around like bizarre vestigial limbs. One began approaching Gale with startling speed, and he pulled his knife out of the snake's side, only to blindly thrust it toward where he believed its mouth would lie. It connected flesh, and the beast shied away again. By this time his full waist was free, and although his movement was limited, he began making his way slowly through the mud onto firmer ground while the beast was distracted. It was like walking in a stream against the current, but the hard whateveritwas beneath him allowed him to make some forward progress. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marvel reclaim one of the spears, and thrust it once again into the monster. Its thrashing increased again, and Gale angrily stabbed the animal's side as it brushed too close.

The beast writhed away again, this time slower, and Gale knew their blows were starting to add up. As he reached the side of the pit, with the mud only to his thighs, the snake became increasingly visible. As more of it appeared, he wondered at how he had managed to overlook it while sinking into the mud. Presumably it had been asleep, but Gale was more than a little suspicious. Cato, who had previously remained on the sidelines, irate at having nothing to do, hopped down beside him and began butchering the animal with well aimed strokes. Even his strong arm couldn't slice through the thick torso of the snake, but the blade cut deep into its body. As the mud slowly ebbed away, the creature began flailing helplessly, and Gale finally caught sight of its head. Cato saw it too, and lopped off the offending extremity with one savage whack. The beast's body continued to squirm for a few moments before finally going still. Gale gave its mud-covered side a poke with his boot. It rolled little, but otherwise remained still.

"Thanks Cato."

"No problem. Now let's see how big it is."

After almost half an hour of shoving, they eventually stretched the snake out on the ground next to the ditch. Its immense bulk proved difficult to lift, even for Pearl and Cato, but eventually they heaved the behemoth up by combining strength.

Gale whistled.

"Damn," agreed Pearl. The snake, although covered in blood and mud, was impressive.

"Looks like it's about thirty-five. What do you think Glimmer?"

"However big it is, I'm glad it's dead now."

"Yeah." They stood admiring the beast for a few more minutes, when Pearl suddenly spoke up.

"Hey Gale, what did you mean by, "I should have guessed it."

"Nothing. Inside joke between me and the Gamemakers." Gale turned to where cameras were sure to be located. "You win." He gave a laugh, trying to hide its hysterical tone. Clove glanced at him quizzically, but he brushed them off. "So, we were hunting Thresh?"

"Is this going to happen again?"

"Hope not."

"Whatever. Lets hurry up and move, if Thresh was in the area, he's long gone by now."

"Do we have a new plan?" Cato glanced at the mud hole.

"We keep going on foot, watch out for more sticksand."

"Cato…"

"Got any better ideas, Clove?" She shook her head, but Gale decided to speak up.

"Lets split up. You all wander around here looking for Thresh, and I'll stand up on the ridge. As soon as you flush him out, I'll shoot."

"And when it gets dark," asked Cato, looking toward the setting sun. Gale shrugged.

"I'll come down. Besides, I need time to clean up this mess." Gale gestured irritably to his mud-infused bow.

"Fine. Clove come with me, Pearl and Glimmer, go that way, and Marvel, you stay in the middle. That way either of us can reach you if you find Thresh." Gale, join him when it gets dark, but send out a shout first. Don't mind us if we don't respond." They had nothing more to say, and so the group split up, Gale trudging slowly back up the slope he had toppled down not an hour before. Once he reached the top, he sat, huffing as he drew out the bow. He could see Cobalt working away at the mines and called out to him.

"Give me one of the extra sweatshirts. And a rag, if you've got it." Gale knew it wasn't worth trying to wash up in the lake at the cost of abandoning his post, but was determined to feel at least somewhat clean. He pulled off his muddy shirt and sweatshirt, before zipping up the one Cobalt provided. His pants were still filthy, and his shoes squelched unpleasantly with every step, but there was nothing to be done about it. Gale set to work trying to remove as much dirt from inside the mechanisms of the bow as possible, one eye eternally on the land below him. He needn't have bothered. All was quiet in the valley, and although he could see the slight wavering of pushed-aside grass where the Careers hunted, nothing disturbed the tranquility of the twilight air.

Gale sat on the rise as long as he thought possible, before giving a loud shout betraying his intentions, and cautiously descending the ridge. Thankfully the ground did not cave out from under him again, and he hoped the Gamemakers thought they had proved their point. He had made them helpless, and they were simply returning the favor. Gale snorted. It was fair, in a way. And he had been an idiot to suggest the thing with the snake. He ventured tentatively through the darkening grass, unwilling to kill his vision by turning on his light, but also wary of the ground before him. He had a difficult time following Marvel's path in the waning light, but it was worth it. A small light flickered on to his left, indicating Glimmer and Pearl's surrender to nature, but Marvel and Cato both held night-vision goggles, so he doubted they would reveal their presences.

Gale heard Marvel long before he saw him, but resisted the temptation to sneak up on the boy for fear of being skewered accidentally. He deliberately stepped on several branches, and as the tribute whirled around he called out quietly.

"Shhh. It's me, Gale." Marvel lowered the spear he had brought up at the first sound.

"Finally. How have you been getting around?"

"Just been paying attention to where I step."

"Nice."

They continued to hunt in silence for a while, but saw nothing. Gale allowed Marvel to keep the goggles, relying on his ears more than his eyes in scoping out danger. The moon rose above them, which helped greatly, and Gale was oddly enjoying himself, despite the earlier disasters of the day. The stars shown in a way foreign to Capitol eyes, and despite the chilly air and cool mud freezing his bones, he felt content. Marvel did not share this sentiment.

"Two nights in a row," he grumbled to himself. "Fucking cold. Fucking Cato." Marvel's quiet rant slowly developed into a long string of curses, but Gale didn't have the heart to stop him. Marvel was already making so much noise with his footsteps that Thresh would see them coming long before they arrived anyway. But Gale did not join him either. Instead he focused his energy on detecting any traps Thresh may have laid out before vacating the area. So far he hadn't seen any signs of human life, but he wasn't keen on being surprised. The night passed devoid of any further excitement, and as the sky began to foretell the sun's imminent approach, he pointed it out to Marvel with glee.

"Finally. Cato said we could head back once it got light, right?" Gale shrugged, but wasn't eager to argue. "Either way, I'm tired." They began their truck back to the Cornucopia, weary feet surprisingly light at the prospect of warmth and sleep. They arrived just as the sun crested the horizon, bathing the arena in light. Both boys ignored the glorious spectacle in favor of pulling out sleeping bags and dropping off. A tired Cobalt had greeted them happily, but he soon saw neither was in a generous mood, and sullenly resumed his watch. Gale fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down.

* * *

><p><strong>Warning, I won't be able to update quite as often now, but I should still be able to put up chapters every two or three days. Maybe more, maybe less, I don't know. I hope everyone liked the movie, or will see it soon. Please Review.<strong>


	14. Quis fallere possit amantem?

**Quick AN, Clove is 18 in this story, not roughly thirteen like in the movie.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C<br>C C** 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>14. <strong>**Quis fallere possit amantem?**

It was past noon when he next woke. Glimmer was tanning in the sun, wearing noticeably fewer clothes than they had been provided with, and Gale was sure to pause and look her up and down obnoxiously before continuing. A small fire flickered despite the harsh sun, and Gale used it to heat some pre-made soup. A quick glance showed that nothing had been done about the bodies of the mutts, but that was to be expected. The entire camp and become something of a disaster. The supplies had never been fully organized, and the Careers knew nothing about conserving food. Flies had gathered where bits of bread and cheese had been left out, and Gale tossed the spoiled food in the fire.

Pearl sat in a chair that had been inexplicably included in their haul. Gale would have rather they put in some more food, or something useful. Not that anyone else was complaining. They sun pounded on his face, and he applied some lotion to stop it from burning him. He grew thirsty, so he drank water. Mostly, he sat waiting for something to happen. He soon grew bored.

"What's the deal with the mines?" Pearl glanced his way and shrugged.

"They're done. Nothing else to do around here. We're waiting on the others to go hunting." Gale shot her a questioning look, and Pearl's interest sharpened. Cobalt wasn't in sight, so she replied. "We're waiting for now. At least until we understand how the trap works so it won't blow up in our faces."

"And until then?" Pearl leaned back, slowly toasting a gooey puffy mushroom-thing.

"Live and let live." Gale forced a smile, and sat next to her. He fidgeted. A few flies buzzed in his ear, and he shooed them away. He was nervous, jumpy. The stagnant atmosphere set him on edge. Despite the action of the previous night, Gale was restless. It was time to make his move.

"I'm going for a walk. Seeing if there are any new trails we can follow." Pearl looked up at him, concerned.

"Think anyone's stupid enough to come near here?" Gale shook his head.

"Probably not, but you never know."

"I'll leave you to it." Gale turned and walked away quickly, before Glimmer could volunteer to come with him. His bow was in his hand, and he tried to get a handle on the adrenaline starting to course through his veins. He couldn't appear nervous or Pearl would realize something was amiss. The dry grass cracked under his feet, and Gale didn't take his usual time to avoid making noise. The line dividing the plain and the woods was tangible, too straight and ordered to be natural. He brushed aside a branch, the cool air under the shade hitting him like a physical wall. It centered him, and made him focused. He was still jumpy, but not as irritated. He glided through the trees, eyes searching for his target. Under the shadow of an enormous old oak, he found it.

Gale was loath to return to the sun and the company, but his good mood encouraged him onwards. Marvel and Cobalt talked under the rim of the Cornucopia, the shade still cool despite the hot metal. Neither Pearl nor Glimmer had moved from their positions although Clove had joined Glimmer. Cato was nowhere in sight.

"And so the mighty tracker returns. What's got you excited?"

"Found tracks crisscrossing all over the woods by the lake. Seems as if we've got a tribute hanging around. I didn't spot them, so I had to wander for a while after so they didn't realize I was on to them."

"Excellent. Let's wake Cato up and get them before they run away." Gale shook his head.

"I doubt they'll leave. Might as well wait until he's rested. Still could take a while to find them. Any bets on who it was?" Clove smirked.

"Only if you aren't betting. My guess is you saw them, chickened out from the kill and are trying to gain something from it." Gale made a face.

"Four's more then two, in case you failed math in school." Clove slapped him good-naturedly.

"Not all of us can be Gale Hawthorne." Marvel and Cobalt joined them. "Let's leave as soon as he's up. I'm bored."

"You're always bored." They continued trading insults and light blows, and Gale let himself be overcome by the relaxed atmosphere. Pearl threw back her head in a laugh as she set bits of food on fire and tried to coax Cobalt into eating it. Marvel disdainfully observed the two interact with a grimace on his face. Clove looked on, torn between wanting to join in, and trying to appear mature. It was tempting, all too tempting, to imagine what it would have been like, without the Games. Gale, for the first time since meeting them, felt reluctant. This dream that they were acting out was a good one, and all he wanted to do was keep it up. Thankfully, before his ideas could become too radical or idiotic, Cato came staggering out of the tent. Cato and his gleaming, ever present sword brought Gale back to reality, and his smile of welcome was more than a little forced.

"You guys make more noise than that little squealer from eight." Cato rubbed at his eyes. The strange sleep cycle coupled with disappointment hadn't done wonders for his appearance or personality. "He was from eight wasn't he?"

"Who cares? Gale found some tracks. Apparently one of the tributes has been lurking." Cato grinned, all sleep gone.

"Excellent. Let's get-" Cato cut off and looked up. A large white parachute drifted down. He caught it one-handed, and looked inside. "Change of plans, dinner first." Pearl smiled, dropping her toasting fork.

"Fine by me." They scrounged for something to eat off, but the succulent smell of cooked meat made them less meticulous. Gale approached the bird first. It had been saturated in a brown sauce, and various vegetables and berries surrounded it.

"Want me to carve it up? No offence, but I don't want any of you spoiling my turkey."

"Well, you do have the most experience with _small_ game." Gale ignored Clove's dig, and proceeded to quickly cut it into pieces. His arms moved mechanically in practiced motions. It wasn't often he and Katniss had caught a turkey, but they had to make do with smaller birds frequently enough that he had no trouble. Gale served himself quickly once he was done, leaving room for the ravenous Careers. They gathered in a haphazard circle, wolfing down the meal. Some of the berries Gale recognized, while others were foreign. They were all delectable, either tangy, sweet, or occasionally with a hint of bitterness. The meat was juicy and flavorful, although it had a slightly bland, manufactured taste. They bantered back and forth, enjoying themselves. Everyone was in a good mood, with a potential kill on the menu. Their merriment was cut slightly short as Gale gasped. Eyes turned toward him as his hands dug at his throat.

"Eating too fast?" Glimmer laughed, but as Gale started coughing she stopped. Pearl also began wheezing, and clutched at her stomach with a short cry of pain.

"Pearl? Gale? What the hell are you-" Cato was cut off as Clove joined the others in their misery, colliding with him in her fall to the dirt. Her eyes grew wide in fear, and she was oblivious to Pearl coughing blood on the ground beside her. She tried to pull out her knife, movements shaky and confused.

"CLOVE! CLOVE!" Cato was panicked, helpless as his district partner shook on the ground in front of him. He looked wildly around at the others, looking for either assistance or culpability. Marvel was backing away from the group, his movements uncertain. He stumbled and fell forward onto his hands and knees as Cato watched. Only one hand held him off the ground as the other caught the blood issuing from his mouth with every hacking spasm. Cato's eyes alighted on Gale's as Gale tried vainly to speak.

"P-," he dissolved into another coughing fit. "Poison." A long hand rose to point at Cobalt, who was still unaffected. Gale then collapsed on the ground.

"No, it wasn't me, I didn't-" Cobalt's eyes grew wide and he backtracked hastily before spinning around and bolting.

"You're killing her!" Cato made a lunge for him, but tripped over Pearl's body. It had been twitching violently, but quickly went still. The first cannon went off. Another followed in quick succession. Cato turned back to Clove, his muddled mind unable to focus. He grabbed at her. "Clove! Clove! Stay with me." He clutched her body, rocking it back and forth, gasping all the while. Another cannon sounded, and Cobalt began twitching on the ground, unable to run. Glimmer alone remained unaffected. She stood watching the scene before her with only abject horror. Her hand rose to her mouth, as if attempting to hold in her fear. Her head twitched back and forth senselessly, trying to deny the sight before her. A fourth Cannon went off, and still she did not feel pain. Cato's body was the last to stop moving. His eyes fixed past her, accusation and confusion present in equal doses.

A final cannon went off, and Glimmer stumbled back from the campfire. The cheerful conversation and feast of only minutes before had changed as abruptly as if it had been doused in ice water. Silence replaced the agonized cries, but it didn't comfort her. Minutes passed, and still she did not feel any deadly agony creeping into her body. She hadn't consumed enough of whatever was poisoned for it to be fatal. She collapsed, shell-shocked into the chair that had been vacated by Pearl. A dull scrapping sound caught her attention, and one of the bodies rose, a reanimated corpse brought back by some god's will.

"Looks like you don't like berries." Glimmer shook her head reflexively, trying to force her hand to grasp her mace. She stood, knocking the chair back, hands finding their positions without assistance from her mind. She stood opposite her fellow Career. Gale brushed off his mouth carelessly, and began approaching her, a strange look on his face.

"How could you…" she trailed off, unable to comprehend the vision before her.

"One thing I never told you all before joining up. I fucking hate Careers."

"But you. You're one of us. You kill and you-" Gale shook his head cutting her off.

"I didn't volunteer for this shit. I may play to win, but I didn't ask for it. You little lapdogs act like this is all one big fucking party-" Gale reined himself in. "Even if I don't make it, at least one other district'll get the extra food. None of you care about that, do you? About how winning, for just one year could save the lives of dozens of starving kids back in the other districts. No, you're just in it for the glory. You _disgust_ me." Gale's unmitigated contempt made her take a dazed step back. He stepped forward, knife held loosely at his side, as she retreated. She could practically feel her mentors screaming at her to do something. Her foot backed into the Cornucopia, leaving her no room to maneuver. She tried to reconcile the sassy, intelligent, teasing boy with the rage-filled fiend before her.

"But, how could you-" Words failed her, and Gale smiled pityingly. He returned briefly to the Gale she thought she knew.

"Not the most articulate." He laughed, and Glimmer raised her arm, her trained body honing in on his momentary weakness, but as she brought it down she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. They were widened briefly in surprise and betrayal, and her arm faltered. The next moment he was impossibly close to her, and there was a sharp, agonizing, pain driving deep into stomach. Her arm was captured by his, and her weapon was useless in the empty air above her. "I like you Glimmer, but everything you represent," he shook his head as she slid slowly down the metal behind her, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. He stepped away, watching her, the anger back, mixed with a good deal of frustration.

"Why would you throw your life away? How could you be so deludedly overconfident?" Glimmer couldn't speak for fear that she would begin sobbing from the pain. Her breath was already coming in gasps, but she wanted to die honorably at least. The thought stuck. She was going to die. Alone, on a grassy plain, far from any help or companionship.

"Gale, please," she croaked "please, can't I just pretend that you, that you-" Gale gave her a long sad look.

"Sorry Glimmer. But I just can't fucking trust you." To Glimmer's eternal shame, she felt tears starting to run down her face. Her anger and sense of betrayal consolidated to drive her movements. She reached down to grasp the dagger still embedded in her torso, and pulled it out, breathless from the pain. Her vision went dark as she unconsciously closed her eyes as she gritted her teeth. But still, she stood, as Gale watched impressed. She made a clumsy lunge toward him, but couldn't find the willpower or strength to drive the knife into flesh. Gale tutted.

"See, this is why I couldn't sit with you." Glimmer collapsed at his feet, and Gale took a step back. Her eyes fixed on his. She was desperate, fearful, and, above all, alone. Gale only watched as she died at his feet. The cannon sounded. Gale smiled, attempted to look bashful, and started off to where he thought a camera would be.

"Sorry if I ruined your timing for the interviews. On the bright side now you only have to do," Gale trailed off, adding up numbers. "Wow, only five of us left. Anyway, so yeah sorry about that." He rubbed his hand through his hair, looking down. He was innocent. Embarrassed. Childish, even. Definitely not capable of befriending and killing half a dozen kids his own age. Gale smirked and the darkness came back. "Only four to go. Shouldn't be long now." He laughed, aware of the hysteria in his voice, but somehow it didn't seem important enough to suppress.

Gale gave a long last look at the massacre he had caused. Cato was slumped over Clove's body, eyes vacant, but hardly less cruel than in life. Confusion was written over their faces, as well as pain. There was no mistaking death for sleep, not when it had arrived so viciously. Gale strode over to Cobalt's body, ignoring the kid's face but searching for the remote he had fashioned. Next he took Clove's knives, but the others he left undisturbed. He stepped back and turned away. He didn't want to see any more of them. Gale walked instinctively over to the lake, a removed part of him intent on washing the blood of his hands. Glimmer's blood. Gale shook himself and continued on.

He hid his emotions as best as possible, knowing his every action would be dissected and discussed for years to come, even if he didn't win, but he felt his face slipping. That was bad, but hopefully not irredeemably so. He regained some control of his body in the walk to the water, and hoped by the time he reached it, that the vultures behind the screens wouldn't have much to gloat over. Overall they would still be pleased. It was the way things went; the Hunger Games were meant for entertainment more than atonement. And Gale had given them entertainment. The betrayal, the carefully planned and executed assassination. It was perfect. His audience would love it, although everyone voting for the other Careers probably loathed him. After all, it would be a shame to lose money. The water rippled as Gale knelt and began cleaning his hands.

Clouds of blood formed and dispersed in seconds. The birds fell silent before one called out. A hovercraft had arrived. Macabre curiosity turned Gale's head, and he realized with faint annoyance that they had only sent one. More economical than sending seven, but without any of the minimalistic honor. A dead tribute was worth nothing to the Capitol, and their indifferent disposal of the bodies reflected it. Gale kicked a fist-sized rock into the lake. It sent up a dissatisfying splash, and Gale walked slowly back to the Cornucopia. He had carefully memorized the placement of the mines, and avoided them out of principle. Cobalt wasn't the trustworthiest fellow, and he refused to be killed by some idiot's revenge from the grave.

Gale righted the chair that first Pearl and then Glimmer had occupied and then vacated. Superstition had never had a hold over him, although many would agree that sitting in his victim's chair was pushing it. Not that any of them could be rightly called victims. Gale had made up his mind to kill them before they had even met, and despite their individual virtues, nothing could dissuade him. They had volunteered, knowing the risks, and he felt very little pity. Killing them was as close as he could come to killing the Gamemakers or the citizens of the Capitol, and he would take what he could get; Capitol plots to turn the districts against each other aside.

That was the main problem; any strike he could make against the Capitol would only play into their hands. Resistance was futile, but that couldn't stop him. It frightened him how little he cared that he had almost called out the Capitol on its crimes. Doing so would have meant his own death, but that wasn't what had silenced his voice. Like he had told Glimmer, winning the Games would mean saving lives. He couldn't say the same for districts five, ten, or eleven, but in twelve it was unconditionally true. No matter how the Games ended, or who won now, he had accomplished something at least. A bitter smile crept over his lips. Watching the district adore them had gone to the heads of too many Victors. They thought of themselves as gods, or in Haymitch's case, devils. Either way they were self-important, and Gale was already halfway there.

After all, that was what the Games were all about. Believing that you were more important, and that your life was worth more than any of the other tributes. Winning was impossible otherwise. Not that all the Victors were proud they had won. Some changed their minds about being worth more, and Gale knew the same would inevitably happen to him. He could only hope for his family's sake that it happened after he had safely retired in Victor's village. Gale made a silent vow not to think of it any more. Thinking inspired doubts, and as much as he hated being a mindless drone, he knew thinking would get him killed.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, you either love me or hate me, review to tell me which. -Terence<strong>


	15. Fortis fortuna adiuvat

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p>15. Fortis fortuna adiuvat<p>

Gale poked at the fire aimlessly. Most of the wood that had been provided was gone, and he would have to fetch more if he wanted a fire. Gale froze. He had been unbelievably stupid, remaining near the Cornucopia so long. Anyone else in the arena with even half a brain would have pieced together that some of the Careers had been killed, at the very least. And they would be curious to see who remained. Gale made to douse the fire, but thought better of it, piling on more wood. The fire might ward off some of the shyer tributes, not that many of those were left. He grabbed a large backpack, and stuffed it with water purification tablets, bottles, matches, and a sleeping bag. Lastly he grabbed a small, but remarkably well-stocked, first-aid-kit and some of the night vision goggles. He quickly re-bandaged his mutt-bitten arm, and applied some cream Glimmer had promised would keep it from becoming infected. His bow and quiver were already on him, as were the daggers, but he looked over the supplies once more for anything valuable. He saw nothing, and so went back to the Cornucopia, reaching into the shadows for the wire he had hidden.

Gale glanced over the campsite once more before throwing on the backpack and departing. He angled away from both the lake and the prairie. He had no wish to engage whichever tribute was lurking around the lake, and he was reasonably certain Thresh had taken the low grassy area for his domain. There had been enough killing for one day. The sun was setting beautifully beyond the trees, but Gale paid it no mind. He forged onward, moving silently through the forest, alert for both predators and prey. A small rabbit noticed his presence and bounded away before he could shoot. Squirrels chattered in the trees, and birds conversed all around him. Each chipper tone resonated on a frequency that jarred with his thoughts. It was irritating, but oddly comforting at the same time. Their lives were no different because of the bloodshed around them, and neither he nor the Capitol made much of a difference in each animal's personal trials and triumphs.

Gale moved with a steady gait, one born from year of hunting. He put in several aimless miles before the sun collapsed, and the anthem played. Images of his former allies blazed though the night. He forced himself to meet their virtual eyes. Their cheerful faces held no accusation, and no foreknowledge of what was to come. Each was shown only long enough to burn an afterimage into his eyes, but as soon as he craned his head to examine them further, they left him. Glimmer appeared first, smiling but not happy. Next came Marvel, whose lip curled in faint amusement at some fault of the audience. Cobalt's face arrived next, a knowing smirk on his face, as if even in death he knew some hidden truth that Gale didn't. Clove's face was forcedly open, in an expression of contentment Gale could never picture her using voluntarily. Cato appeared with a cocky grin, absurdly arrogant considering the circumstances. Pearl's smile wasn't as beautiful as Glimmer's, or as thought provoking as Cobalt's, but Gale had a feeling it was the only genuine one of the bunch.

Gale put on the goggles, and walked for another hour before halting. The chill night air permeated his zip-up, and he belatedly wished he had backed one of the extras. There was no water in sight, but he had filled the canisters before departing. He was in no mood to dine. Gale found a slight depress in the land, partially covered in the roots of an oak. He put in his sleeping bag, and backpack, before taking out the wire. He proceeded to set up trip wire designed to alert him to anyone who had attempted to follow him. Glancing up at the trees, he remembered that not all his enemies were tethered to the ground. The girl probably wouldn't murder him in the night, but probably wasn't good enough. It took quite a bit of thought, and Gale wasn't exactly happy with the results, but he eventually strung up some traps to alert him to anyone in the trees. He didn't like relying upon it, but there was only so far protection could go. No one was ever truly safe in the arena. Gale crawled into his bag, threw a few scant leaves over himself, and fell quickly aleep.

* * *

><p>Gale woke before dawn, but he lay quietly trying to occupy his mind with the sounds of nature alone. The cold crept into his bed through the still-open zipper, but he was too cautious, even in his groggy state, to sacrifice safety for comfort. His muscles ached from days of resting on hard metal and rock, and a particularly troublesome root had attempted to work its way into his back at some time in the night. He shifted minutely, unwilling to rise, but couldn't find a position where it wasn't naggingly intruding on his morning. Hundreds of birds sang around him, but the faint dampness of the bag indicated it was still early despite the sun's warm rays on his closed eyes.<p>

None of his traps had been triggered during the night, and he felt calm, reasonably peaceful, and out of immediate danger. He bolted upright as one of his snares tugged harshly against his ankle. So much for no danger. The branches that had help conceal him during the night became his prison. It took him precious seconds to escape, and several more for his disoriented mind to find the threat. A dark shape was moving quickly away from him, and he loosed an arrow at it. The bolt twanged off a tree, and missed the figure entirely as it disappeared beyond sight. Gale stood, ready to pursue when he stopped, glancing around at his camp.

After careful inspection, he noted that nothing had been disturbed, including the foliage around his site. The tribute had been scared away by his presence alone. Gale was in no mood to give chase, and so he took longer than strictly necessary dismantling his snares. His gradually numbing fingers didn't speed the progress either, and it took him almost a quarter of an hour. At last he could stall no more. Gale set off at a light pace, headed back to the Cornucopia. With any luck, he could catch the tribute he had already seen, or else ambush someone investigating his previous site. He had turned on the mines before leaving, but that didn't rule out someone getting around the traps. Every net had a flaw, and with enough prodding in the right place, they could always be broken.

For the first time in the arena, Gale began to feel hungry, and he didn't dare trust any food that he had left unguarded during the night. Perhaps it was paranoia, but it was better to be too careful rather than not careful enough. Gale only paused once on his way back to the Cornucopia, as he caught sight of a familiar plant. It was called Nightlock, and was deadly poisonous. He had slipped a similar, although slower acting, relative into the Careers' final meal. He gathered the lethal berries, placing some in a small pocket in his bag, sealed away from any water supplies, and crushed some of the others to spread over his weapons. It would have to be reapplied several times a day, but even a little poison could turn a small scratch into a mortal wound. He left several of his arrows untampered with, and clearly marked for hunting. He continued on.

Gale's pace slowed as he approached the Cornucopia, and he watched and listened carefully for any sign of danger. His earlier encounter had knocked down his confidence, and he put all his attention on observing his surroundings. The open area lay empty. The abandoned fire was still smoking half-heartedly, but everything else looked untouched. The light moisture, which had collected on the ground earlier that morning, revealed no trespassers. If anyone had inspected the camp, they would be either hiding in an ambush, or long since gone. He cautiously crept out of the woods, and made for the gleaming horn.

He turned off the mines, but avoided them all the same as he approached the camp. On first inspection, nothing appeared to have changed, but Gale subconsciously felt that something was off. He glanced around at the surrounding landscape, eyes lingering on the cliff to the prairie, but nothing caught his attention besides the slight flutter of a bird taking off. He turned his mind back to the supplies, hands gliding over their surfaces, but not touching. He didn't disturb them, unwilling to mess up any possible aberrations that could betray someone's presence. He looked around wildly; almost growing frustrated enough to kick one of the nearby containers. Was he just growing paranoid, like so many other tributes before, or…

Gale's roving eye landed on the wolf-human carcasses. They were rotting profusely, and covered in scavenging insects, but no larger animals had touched them. Even from a distance, Gale could tell the heat had not been a friend to the wolves. Once fearsome beasts were nothing more than garbage, too insignificant to even bother cleaning up. Gale counted the bodies. Thirteen. A faint smile of appreciation stole over his face, and he looked over the supplies. Where once there were twelve apples, now there were ten. Where a cheese had been untouched, it still appeared immaculate, but its shape had changed. The food feigned purity, despite its contamination by human hands. Someone had been nibbling at it.

Gale surveyed his options, coming up with several plans before discarding each. Some were impractical, others too predictable. Eventually a smile dawned. He started tampering with the food. He only modified about half of the varied meats and breads strewn about the bedraggled campsite, but that half was riddled with deadly berries. One misstaste, and his opponent would be dead. Gale grabbed a warmer half-coat from atop one of the oil-barrels before departing. He glanced once again around the site, but didn't find anything else worth taking among the abandoned supplies. He reassured himself that he wasn't acting on a sentimental impulse as he snagged a bag of Pearl's favorite mushroomy thing from its location in the dirt and placed it on her vacated chair. He shrugged on the backpack and turned to the woods, following the same path he had walked the previous night. He kept his manner slightly tense, and moved his feet quickly, glancing everywhere. No human disturbed his field of vision, but that didn't mean they weren't watching. Gale trotted a full mile, glancing everywhere for signs of life, before concealing his pack in a small hollow and sprinting back to the clearing, laden only by his bow and quiver.

The girl from five picked her way though the supplies, her red hair catching in the sunlight. The distance between him and her eliminated any of the negligible sound he was certain she was causing, but he could tell each movement she made was a carefully calculated risk. She took minimal steps as she wandered through the supplies, and Gale would bet she hadn't placed one foot in a place he hadn't already stepped. She avoided the poisoned food, as if by some superior instinct, but Gale had counted on it. He knew she would be smart enough to realize he would attempt a trap.

But, just as he knew she would, the girl had relaxed her guard when she saw him plant the berries. She, like any reasonable person, assumed the berries were the main danger, rather than the bait itself. Gale realized he had stood watching too long when she stood up sharply, as if aware of the eyes on her. She looked about uncertainly, with an expression Gale had seen on countless prey in the instant before the kill. She knew something was wrong, and abandoned her food, darting toward the forest as fast as possible without hitting the mines. She didn't make it halfway before Gale's arrow became caught in her throat. He had stepped out of the woods for a clearer shot, and as she raised her hand to her neck, her eyes found him.

They narrowed perceptibly, and there was more anger than pain or fear on her face. In her last moments the girl reached for something behind her back. Gale could only throw himself back and cover his ears as she tossed out her stolen food, triggering half a dozen mines. The world roared, and all the forces around him decided to switch directions and push. Hard. He stumbled before he realized he was trying to rise. The ground shook and seemed to almost roll beneath his feet like Prim's goat, Lady, trying to rid itself of an irritating fly. More blasts invaded his scattered skull and it was impossible to tell what was up or down. The world took a few minutes to right itself, and forest fell deadly quiet and still. Gale stood up, but the ground tilted under him and he leaned against a tree. Not even the birds were singing, and a sudden fear overtook Gale. He smashed his foot into a small tree, bending it over and snapping it. To his immense relief, a faint cracking reached his ears, a hundred times less powerful than it should have, but still audible.

He wandered haphazardly to examine the damage to the supplies, supported by larger trees along the way, regardless of the mortal wound he had caused to their younger cousin. About half of the mines had gone off, but most of the supplies had been wrecked. Vindictive little Vix had destroyed one of his advantages. The earth moved under him again unexpectedly, and Gale retreated into the woods before the motion could make him sick. He had to leave; his only supplies had been left abandoned far too long. He reached painstakingly from tree to tree as he floundered to his goal. Gale felt horribly exposed and vulnerable. He was deaf, his vision was iffy, and his balance had gone completely out of whack. His only comfort was that any enemies in the immediate vicinity would be in much the same state.

It took him more than an hour, by his guess, to reach the backpack. It was untouched, which was a relief, and Gale pulled it on. While the world still sloped alarmingly on occasion, it remained stationary for the most part. This helped Gale immensely as he ventured out into the woods. Now he ignored his previous path, as it was impossible to say whether the tribute he had seen earlier was the girl from 5. He doubted it had been the little girl, or the hulking behemoth, but the boy from 10 was still a possibility. It was startling how short the list of suspects was. He had only three others to contend with. At the rate they were going, it was possible they could set a record time.

Usually, the Games last three to five weeks. They had learned their lesson during the 46th annual Hunger Games that even the Capitol would grow tired after more than three months, and the record was set at 95 days, twelve hours, and 43 minutes. It was rare for a Game to last less than two weeks, but the record was 8 days, 5 hours, and 3 minutes. The numbers were repeated so often during the Games that Gale had long since unconsciously memorized them. As long as it took less than a day per person, he'd be well in the clear. Gale snorted. He had probably set some record already with his poisoning stunt, and at the very least it would make the "Top ten most unexpected betrayals" show. It was something of a series, making top ten lists out of the Hunger Games. Top ten most exciting games. Top ten most brutal kills. Top ten best arenas. Gale had caught snippets of it on television as the power flickered.

Gale turned in a general Eastward direction, facing the sun, and set off. The forest was eerie without the constant buzz of conversation between its inhabitants. It was like the world had separated itself from him, and all he could see was its distant picture on a television far away. Despite the feel of sunlight on his skin and the dirt and rock giving way underneath his feet, the whole world felt fake. He was in an imperfect model of the true world, created by an artist with an eye for detail but an inability to understand his subject. Gale stopped questioning the world's authenticity when proof of its immediate nature arrived in a rather conspicuous manner.

He was pushed to the ground, nose in the dirt and leaves, by an enormous beast whose paws cut into his back. A sharp edge scraped against his shoulder, and an iron clamp imbedded itself in his muscle before trying to tear away a large hunk of his flesh. Gale heard himself scream distantly through his otherwise foggy ears, and rolled over instinctively, driving his elbow into the thing behind him. He didn't hear its reaction, but its grip loosened and he struck again, hitting what he thought was its face. This time the jaws released, and the animal attempted to scramble away before spinning around for another attack. Gale reached for one of the knives in his pocket, but it had fallen out in the struggle. A snarling reddish lupine mutt loomed in his immediate vision, and lunged toward him. Gale rolled to the left, scattering a small whirlwind of leaves out of his path in his attempt to avoid it.

The mutt missed, unable to change course mid-leap, but turned back to face him the moment it landed. A faint gleam of metal among the foliage caught Gale's eye, and Gale dove forward directly into the path of the beast's next attack. His hand closed on the bad end of the blade, but the small pain of this action barely registered compared to the shock of the snapping jaws only inches from his face. He fell backwards with the beast landing fully on top of him, driving the breath from his lungs. Gale, gasping, brought up his legs and kicked the monster away, before righting the knife in his hand. This time as the bitch roared toward him with all the speed and precision of a just-sprung trap, Gale forced its fangs away by lashing out into the side of its muzzle with his boot. He had no time to register the insanity of his actions before he leapt onto the beast while its teeth were turned away, and tried to hold down its thrashing movements while plunging the blade again and again and again into its slowly moistening fur.

It took Gale a while to realize the dog had stopped moving. He pushed the carcass away in disgust once he came to this conclusion, but whether at it or himself he couldn't answer. His clothes were ruined, by both blood and holes, but he doubted the audience would mind. He tore off the offending jacket, stuffing it into his bag for a colder night. He walked a few hundred feet away from the pseudo-wolf before the adrenaline drained and he collapsed on the trunk of a fallen tree, breathing hard. His shoulder burned, and gave off sharp twinges as he moved it, but Gale was admittedly frightened to look at it. He could tell the bite was many times worse than the scratch he had received by the other wolves' jaws. They hadn't been given time to latch on and rip flesh.

He looked down, and had to take a few steadying breaths. Blood was pouring out of the wound in an amount he didn't think was healthy, and a part of the muscle was bitten almost clean through. The tissue flapped agonizingly as he moved, but at least it was still partially attached. Gale dug the first aid kit out of his bag, and looked at the materials in minor confusion. Carefully rolled bandages and labeled ointments were plentiful, but Gale hardly knew where to begin. He wished for all the world that he had paid more attention when Prim had delightedly explained the injuries she knew how to treat. A rag caught his attention, and Gale knew where to start, cleaning the blood off his skins as much as he could. More of the red liquid kept draining out, and he soon gave up, and instead pushed the flaps of flesh together in a desperate plea for them to mend.

They didn't, of course, but after a few minutes of pressure and prayers the bleeding began to lessen. Gale looked through the jars of fluids until he found one labeled "Antibiotic" in a bold, difficult to ignore, font. The instructions of "use as needed to prevent infection" were less than unhelpful, but in the end Gale decided to peel the flap of skin up a bit, and, after much swearing, drip a little of the liquid directly on the wound.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Bad idea. Bad shit ass-fucking idea. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Ass. Fuck." Gale's stream of curses didn't wane until several minutes later. He wasn't really one for the 'strong and silent' approach when it came to injuries. While he had seen tributes endure much worse pain without apparent distress, trying to re-attach half of a shoulder wasn't a walk in the park either. The liquid had seared Gale's flesh, and it felt more like burning oil was dripping into his skin rather than anything with curative properties. Gale resorted once again to pushing his flesh together and hoping. After a while, as the pain began to fade again, Gale tentatively looked in the box for anything else he could torture himself with. When his eyes alighted on an innocently gleaming needle and thread, he began to swear again.

The first time he had witnessed Mrs. Everdeen bring out a needle in an effort to mend an injury, Gale had been repulsed and curious in equal measures. Despite the annoying crying of the young boy who had sliced his arm open on a knife, Gale had stayed to watch as she had heated the needle and driven it into the boy's flesh. Katniss had whispered that it helped to make it heal faster and prevent infection before dragging him out of the building. He had teased her endlessly about not liking the sight of a little blood later, but personally was a little relieved. Something instinctively didn't settle right with the idea of causing further damage to help heal.

Gale glared at the needle before threading it with an expert hand. Natural reactions aside, he would trust Mrs. Everdeen's judgment. He doused the needle and thread in the burning liquid after concluding that lighting a fire in his vulnerable state would be too risky. Then, unwilling to delay any longer, Gale began messily stitching his shoulder back together.

His mother was a washerwoman for the wealthier families in the district, but the care of their family's own clothing was left largely to the children. She had enough to do mending and cleaning of other people's delicates to do without adding their own clothing to the burden. Gale had been her first replacement, as soon as he was old enough that the risk of him ruining their clothing had become low enough. Gale himself had gratefully passed the task on to his younger siblings as soon as his hunting ability became recognized, but the skills he had learned had never really left him. While sewing he had learned his first few knots, and while he couldn't think of any practical benefit of his washing knowledge, he didn't truly begrudge his mother her the small concessions she had given herself in his youth.

Despite his ample knowledge of sewing clothes, the act was wildly different when preformed on human tissue. Or perhaps just different when preformed on himself. Firstly, the angles were all wrong, and although the bite was thankfully on his left shoulder, it was still hard to reach all the areas on his back, especially on a small section that stretched toward his shoulder blades and neck. This caused the stitching to become uneven despite his best efforts. Secondly, he wasn't entirely sure how far apart the stitches were supposed to be. He wanted to space them out as much as possible, to reduce the number he had to make, but really didn't want them breaking and having to be replaced. Inevitably he ended up guessing, but it was still difficult to piece the scraps of flesh together where the teeth had torn up his skin. Sometimes he gave up and stitched directly into the muscle, alternating between gritting his teeth and swearing profusely. That was the third problem. It fucking hurt.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review, especially the thirty-one people who have me on either story alert or favorites who have never reviewed. I'm on to you. Also, Ellenka and 1Styx and Stones1 are both the best because they've each reviewed the most. Follow their example, and I'll mention you too.<strong>


	16. Aequam memento rebus

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>16. <strong>**Aequam memento rebus in arduis servare mentem**

Almost an hour after the mutt had first attacked, Gale finally felt ready to move again. After completing the stitching, Gale had splashed more of the antibiotic onto the newly patched arm, wincing slightly with the pain. He doused a small amount on the other scrapes he had received since the start, including the other bites, and the arrow-scratch he had received what felt like years ago at the Cornucopia. He had then wrapped the whole still-oozing-blood mess in crisp white bandages, before gently hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. The pain was manageable as long as he didn't rest the straps directly over the bite, and he set off warily, glancing around frequently for predators. There were still six other mutts out for blood, and Gale knew if they surprised him like Vix's had, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Gale's gait gained confidence as the day wore on, and his hunger became incessant. Without his ears, it was difficult to spot prey, but eventually caught a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision. He brought a squirrel down with the bow, despite agonizing protests from his injured limb. Lush berries, most poisonous some not, burdened bushes along his uncertain path and he grazed through the sun-stuck leafy plants as he walked, but didn't stop for any extended period of time. Gale wanted to be far away from any potential danger so he could reformulate his plan of action. His brief talks with Haymitch hadn't carried over to the particulars of what he would do once the Careers were dead. There were too many variables involved to make any good estimates, and Gale secretly suspected Haymitch hadn't expected him to get so far. Gale's plan had been sound, but random chance could easily have ended it, and him.

Sunlight streamed through the trees. They had had flawless blue skies day after day in the arena, and Gale wondered briefly if it would ever rain. There had been arenas that steadily turned into deserts as the days progressed, but something told him this wasn't one of them. He was starting to faintly hear birdcalls, much to his relief, and they grew louder as the day wore on. Despite his recent triumphs, Gale was troubled. The woods could not cheer him, and he had to make a conscious effort to remain at least neutral. Each mosquito bite reminded him of Pearls incessant bitching, and whenever he spotted the plant he had used to kill them, he had to force himself not to avoid it. Gale tried picturing the gruesome way they had killed the boy from eight, but their faults didn't make his actions seem any less disgusting. They would have continued to slaughter tributes as long as warm bodies were placed before them, but how were his actions any different? Gale shook himself, trying to rid his head of his former allies' nagging ghosts, and trudged on through the forest, breaking the silence momentarily by angrily swatting a tree branch out of his way. When it came back and hit him as he passed, Gale turned methodically toward the tree and snapped off the offending limb. He continued on.

Gale stopped in late afternoon, and began to set up camp. It was just as much a risk to go too far from the other tributes as to go too close. Although the Gamemakers hadn't seen fit to meddle yet besides the wolf-mutts, as far as he could tell, that didn't mean they wouldn't start soon. It was hard to judge how popular he was with the audience, because while he had shown his intelligence and skill, he had also taken down many of people's favorite tributes. And his frank dismissal of Glimmer after his betrayal had probably angered many. There was a fine line between making things exciting and pissing them all off, and Gale was toeing it cautiously.

He set up snares for both people and animals, in equal parts on the ground and in the sky. Thresh would not venture so far from his territory so suddenly, but the little girl and the other boy were both potential threats. The girl at least was far bolder then he could have anticipated, and he knew next to nothing about the boy. It was still relatively early time-wise in the Games, so it was possible he had just bumbled his way into the top four, but Gale couldn't count on it. He wished he had paid more attention, as the only valuable information he knew was that the boy had a limp, but had been almost certainly playing it up. Gale thought he had gotten a three, but he wasn't sure. He thought back to what he remembered of the boy's Reaping, but came up with almost nothing. He shrugged internally. He didn't have much to work with, but he would have to make do. There was no other option.

Gale had a lengthy internal debate over the benefits of lighting a fire, but eventually decided the risk was too great. The little girl couldn't be trusted, and a fire was certain to draw attention. Without an ally, he would be vulnerable during the night, and disclosing his location to the entire world again would be a foolhardy prospect. He had been loud enough when patching his injuries, making himself more noticeable would only lead to trouble. There was nothing to do but wait until he regained the complete use of his senses. Wait, and plan. Gale let a smile grace his face. If there was one skill in all the world that he possessed, it was in planning. True, he knew little of his prey, but even they would follow human nature, and thus they could be eliminated. Just as he could kill the girl from 5, he could kill them, all he needed to do was think.

Gale lounged the rest of the day, deep in thought. He ventured forth briefly to gather more food, but stayed close to where he had laid his bag. The sun set and the anthem played, showing only Vix's face. It faded out quickly, and Gale tried to fall asleep as soon as possible. His plan involved rising before dawn, and he wanted as much rest as he could get. His bow and night-vision goggles rested within easy reach, and the familiar cold of nights in the arena began to creep in. He was warm in his bag, but his face was still exposed to the elements. The moon shone brightly, illuminating a surprising amount of the woods. It reflected slightly off some lighter rocks, giving the woods a strange, unearthly feel. Gale paid it no mind as he fell asleep.

Glimmer laughed as they walked through a sunlit field. Butterflies lazily flitted about fragrant flowers. Daisies, roses, tulips, and other plants Gale couldn't give name to scattered the ground. The grass was green, and the sky was blue, dotted with brilliant white balls of fluff, a thousand times whiter than any of the downtrodden sheep in district 12. A lake appeared, reflecting perfectly the sky above, and Glimmer pulled him toward it. They fell together on the ground beside it, and Gale pushed her into the water. She laughed, her light blue summer dress dripping wet, as she stood.

"No fair!" she teased, "you cheated." Gale laughed back and jumped in only to push her over again. Glimmer landed on a cluster of water-flowers, crushing them. She picked one up, and eyed it critically. She wasn't light-hearted, but instead calculating.

"Such a stupid plant. Not elegant or pretty." She threw it on the ground. Gale stood up.

"You didn't have to do that," he said angrily.

"Of course I did. That's what you have to do Gale, if you want to win. I thought you knew that." Blood blossomed from a hole in her dress; it flowed down the wet material quickly, staining it a deep red. "It's all about winning, Gale." Glimmer's serious edge faded away as she laughed again. "But that doesn't matter. Not if there's the two of us." She threw her arms around him as he shied away, causing a large splash. The grin on her face was innocent and happy, and it burned Gale. She chased him, confused. "I trusted you, why won't you stay with me, Gale?"

"I can't Glimmer, I-" Gale backtracked, jumping back out of the lake. Glimmer was beautiful, and he couldn't quite remember why it was so vital to run. Something to do with flowers.

"What's the matter Gale? We can win, it'll be easy." Gale glanced at the flower Glimmer had crushed, but there wasn't a flower anymore. Katniss lay broken by the water, just as her namesake had only moments before. Glimmer caught his glance, and irritably said, "You don't need _her_ you have _me._ You love _me_ remember Gale?" Glimmer advanced, predatory but innocent. Commanding, but desperate. "Please Gale, don't you love me? Don't you love me Gale?"

"No I-"

"You don't love me?" Hurt shown on Glimmer's face, and Gale wanted to change his answer but she lunged at him. "Then die," she screeched as she charged, claws outstretched. A knife appeared in his hands and Gale stumbled back, stabbing, stabbing, stabbing, but she wouldn't die. She just kept screaming and screaming, and hating him with every unintelligible word that poured forth from her mouth. Nails scrapped into his face, gouging into his eyes, and Gale woke with a start.

It was still the middle of the night, but the moon and stars had rotated noticeably. Gale knew further sleep would not come, and he swiftly packed his equipment. The snares in the sky remained untouched, but the ones on the ground had caught him a large bird, some relative of the turkey. He skinned it quickly, trying not to think of the extra ingredients he had added the last time he went through the same motions. Gale gathered wood and set a fire. He wouldn't be going to sleep any time soon, and could kill any tribute foolish enough to attack him. He couldn't be scared of the other tributes, only intelligently wary.

He roasted the bird, as well as the squirrel he had caught the previous day, eating a significant amount of the former. After gathering his supplies and dousing the fire, Gale set out at an angle to the previous night's path. He watched the sun rise as he soundlessly circled the area he believed the girl to be hidden. It was unlikely she had teamed up with her district partner, and even less likely that she had strayed far from the Career's former campground. As far as he could tell, there were few water sources apart from the lake, and each too far for the little girl to reach without walking on the ground. He doubted she would be foolish enough to give up her only advantage, so she would have to be within about half a day's slow walking distance from the lake. Less if she hadn't managed to find a water bottle.

Gale stayed away from the actual Cornucopia. Predictability was bad, and there was always a chance of one of the other tributes setting a trap. Instead he walked around to the side of the woods opposite the lake. It was far enough from the prairie to avoid a chance encounter with Thresh, but still a good place to look for tracks. The little bird would have to go on the ground to retrieve water, and footprints in the mud would confirm his theory. He rounded the side of the lake, alert for any signs of the other tributes. It was mid-day by the time he reached the lake's cool waters, and any tributes in the arena would probably be either anxiously avoiding his presence, or on the hunt. The days were winding down, and even the most docile of other tributes would be itching for a fight and a way out of the arena. His speculation was confirmed as a cannon rang out through the cheerful birdcalls. Gale ducked unconsciously, flinching from the noise rather than its implication. His run-in with the mines had left an impression, despite not permanently injuring him physically.

He looked wildly around, and glanced through the trees across the lake. A flock of birds had erupted from over the ridge, and Gale guessed either Thresh had run into trouble, or had killed one of the other tributes. He hoped it was the former, although either scenario would be beneficial. Gale doubted Thresh would have killed the girl from his own district, which left the boy. So one of the boys was dead, unless Ten was more dangerous then he had previously guessed and had killed the bird. The odds of ten killing Thresh were too low to consider, no matter what tricks the boy had up his sleeve. Gale continued walking.

A willow overhung the lake, its elegant roots spanning the length between soil and water. Gale cursed, knowing the girl would have stayed on the tree if she had any sense. There would be no tracks, and he had no way of confirming if she was even in the area. Gale kicked the tree, but then climbed over its roots to fill his own water. He had enough enemies; holding a grudge against a tree would be counterproductive. He added the purifiers and waited the appropriate amount of time before taking a sip, surveying the scene before him. He looked at angles and trees, judging where best to set his traps.

A light wind had sprung up and was chasing shadows across the waves. Small white crests were beginning to form, smaller versions of the variety Gale had seen in the brief Ocean documentaries that had been broadcasted in school. The lake in the arena was far bigger than any of the ponds he and Katniss had fished together, and Gale became caught up for a while in watching the patterns. Unlike the frozen pond of his dream, this body of water was alive and fluid. The wind blowing off its surface was welcomingly fresh compared to the hot sun, and Gale halfheartedly wished he had time to cool off in it.

Several fish jumped in the shallows, springing out of their natural environment chasing insects. Gale wondered how often they caught their goal. On any normal occasion, Gale would have immediately set out a net to bring home a nice dinner, but here in the arena there was no one to feed but himself. He had plenty, and Gale doubted he would stay in the Games more than another few days, one way or another. But still, morbid thoughts aside, Gale sat by on the willow roots for quite a while staring into the lake. He was loath to leave, but eventually, he pulled himself up, and set to work.

First he glanced all around, intent on insuring the girl wasn't within sight. After a few minutes he shrugged. If she could see him without him noticing her, then she would out-think his trap anyway. Gale dug a shallow pit, before draping branches, and then leaves over it. It was an obvious trap, but Gale put enough of the leftover bird and squirrel on it to hopefully draw the girl's attention. A low branch hung temptingly over the entire parcel. It looked simple to climb out on the branch and snatch up the food, but he doubted she would be idiotic enough to attempt that. Gale left the branch alone, and instead turned to the trees around the set-up.

A young girl, especially as hungry as she probably was, wouldn't be able to resist coming to take a closer look. Even if she were smart enough to avoid triggering the obvious traps, she would want to inspect it to see if it could be circumvented. So Gale set the real trap on the branches from which she could best observe. He climbed the trees, and reached out about halfway down the branch. There, he cut through almost completely before leaving a tiny scrap at the top to hide his handy work. The branch would snap at the slightest weight, hopefully sending the girl crashing to the ground. The height was great enough that a fall would certainly break bones, even if it didn't kill her on impact. Not a nice way to die, stranded and helpless on the forest floor, but Gale wasn't in the Games to be nice.

Gale replicated the trap several times over the next few hours. At midafternoon, he caught the smell of smoke, and a quick glance showed it wasn't set by any of the other tributes. It wasn't close, but he gathered his supplies all the same, in case the Gamemakers decided to drive it to him. A few animals rushed past him, blinded by fear, and he was even able to pick off a deer. He wasted some of the meat due to his inexperienced hand, and the pelt was ruined, but it still gave off plenty of venison. He was forced to re-set a few of his traps, but thought it was well worth the extra effort, as the fire likely meant another tribute was in the area. He was also able to use the extra meat to flesh out the bait.

Gale was just finishing the last of the traps as darkness fell, and the anthem played. He looked up, and was unsurprised to see the boy from ten's face in the sky. Whether from the Gamemakers or one of the other tributes, there was at least one less variable in his path to success. Although the other two tributes were likely larger threats, it comforted Gale to have his unknown out of the equation. Unlike the boy from ten, Gale had at least some knowledge of how to defeat his other opponents, or at least tilt the odds in his favor.

Gale gathered up his belongings, and walked about fifteen minutes away from his last trap, occasionally consulting the night-vision goggles. Then he stopped, and began debating whether to sleep or remain awake and alert. Suddenly, the 74th annual Hunger Games was drawing to a close. Only he and the two tributes from 11 were left, and once one died, the other would have to follow soon. The Gamemakers rarely allowed much pause between the second to last kill and the last, and they weren't likely to make an exception for him. He could sleep now, and risk being caught by either of the other tributes, at least one of whom was capable of killing, or he could remain awake and risk becoming sleep deprived and lethargic in the middle of a fight. He couldn't afford slowed reflexes either way. Gale rolled out his bag, but did not go in. He was still undecided when he noticed a small white parachute floating down.

It was only his second, after the meal, and he had no idea what it could contain. The silken bag became entangled in the branches over his head, but Gale swiftly climbed the tree to obtain it. There was a delicate moment when he realized the branch it was caught on was far too thin to support his weight, but Gale simply snapped the whole thing and tossed it down, parachute and all. There was a crash as it landed, and he hopped belatedly that whatever he had been sent wasn't fragile. He tore open the packaging to find a helmet.

It wasn't especially ornate, but was still high quality enough to be worth an immense amount. The metal it was made out of was both thick and strong, and refused to yield when Gale attempted to bend it. Light padding on the interior surrounded the area where his head would be, and a strap went under his chin. Gale didn't like the strangle hazard this strap contained, but if Haymitch had splurged on it, Gale knew the extra protection would be entirely necessary.

It also solved his other problem. If he had a helmet, it probably meant he would need to use it. Gale scanned the woods, using the night-goggles to survey the land looking for the girl. For hours, he saw nothing but animals, and learned nothing but the love life of a few rambunctious squirrels. He was beginning to think that Haymitch had actually wanted him to sleep, and that the helmet was a way of telling him he would be guarded, but then Gale heard a piercing howl. He knew instinctively that his opponent wasn't an ordinary wolf, and immediately tore to the nearest tree and began to climb.

SNAP. The first branch he encountered gave way instantly, despite being over five inches thick. With growing unease, Gale attempted to mount another tree, with the same result. CRACK. SNAP. Each branch he attempted to hoist himself onto refused to hold his weight, and Gale quickly gave up. The audience wanted a show, and what better way to give it than making things unnecessarily difficult. Gale glanced around again uneasily, but no gleam of eyes or flash of fur caught his attention. Instead a white mist had begun creeping into the edges of his vision. Where before he could see hundreds of yards without strain, now anything farther than around fifty feet was sinking quickly into an encroaching fog. He tossed the night-vision goggles aside, as he knew they would be little to no help in the fight. A full moon gleamed brightly overhead, and its light aided his sight better than the restricted, green, view of the goggles.

More calls surrounded him, from outside his tightening field of vision, and the faint yipping of eager voices joined the more widely feared mournful howls. These were animals thirsting for blood and violence, not regretfully seeking out necessary food. Gale spun around, bow in hand and ready to fire at the slightest provocation, but the white wall hid his enemy. Gale could no longer see trees twenty feet away, and the mutt's calls sounded just outside of his vision. He tried to hide the growing panic on his face as he realized he was completely surrounded by the baying beasts. As one snarled loudly to his left, Gale straightened himself and fired toward the noise. His shoulder protested, but if a show as what they wanted, he sure as hell wasn't going to let the dogs kill him lying down. A pain-filled bark reached him, and he shot off another arrow into the mist where he had hear a different beast yip in reply.

No sound greeted him, but a dark shape detached itself from the mist and lunged at him from the area around where he had shot. Gale fumbled with the arrow, and barely managed to loose it into the beast's mouth before it collided with him. Death stopped the maliciousness in the blow, and Gale shoved the animal to the side, turning to see where the next strike would come from.

This time two wolves tore toward him at once, and Gale could only stop one before the other collided with him, forcing him to the ground. Thankfully, it started gnawing on his helmet, its sharp teeth unable to find purchase on the slick metal. Gale shoved it off of himself with a knife, driving his blade into the beast's throat before jumping to his feet again. The dog wasn't dead yet, but it was on its way, and was trying to slink off, Gale let it, focusing instead on regaining the bow that had fallen off in the skirmish, and preparing for the next assault. Only one mutt struck this time, and Gale easily killed it, but two more came as it fell, and Gale had no time to reload.

He dropped his bow, knowing it would only hinder him, and backtracked away from the flashing teeth of the animals. While he was distracted dodging the jump of one, the other came around from behind and bit him hard on the calf. Gale cried out before yanking his foot away and hitting it on the head. The other knocked into him while he was unbalanced, and they fell together to the forest floor, crashing into one of the bushes. Its teeth found their target on his bicep, and Gale wondered distantly why they hadn't gone for the throat. He didn't reflect on the idea, choosing instead to stab the beast above him in the stomach. The creature rolled away, but Gale knew the angle of the thrust had been bad. He tried to back away again as the other mutt jumped on top of him, but the sticks and leaves of the bush behind him stopped his movement, so instead he blindly pushed the animal away from his vital organs with his hands.

He received a nasty bite on one, but his knife somehow found its way under the animal's head, and the creature impaled its own throat on the blade. Its full weight collapsed onto Gale, and he couldn't get his knife free from the furry mass in front of him. Pain reached his calf once again, and he realized the other mutt had returned with a vengeance. He kicked out with his other foot, and the animal's jaws detached from his leg, but latched on again almost instantly. Gale cried out, half in frustration, half in pain. He heaved the mutt on top of him away with a tremendous effort, before turning to the last, knife in hand. He could instantly tell it was Clove's double, and she let out another snarl before jumping toward him. He dodged, and it turned before leaping again. This time, she was too close and instead Gale kicked out at it. His bitten leg gave way, but the animal was stopped within a few feet of him, snorting, trying to shake off the blow. Now Gale lunged from his hands and knees, hooking his arm around the mutt's body. Mutt-Clove tried to scoot back and away to deliver a bite, but his blade became acquainted with her neck before she could turn.

Gale leaned back, gasping, huge clouds of mist forming every time he exhaled. Sweat and blood covered him, and he moaned, grasping his calf. The bites there had been worst, although his shoulder, bicep, and a hundred other areas throbbed with each beat of his heart. A liquid dripped into his eye, and he wiped it away before looking down and realizing it was blood. One of the mutt's teeth must have slipped when trying to bit through his helmet, and his forehead was stinging lightly. He could barely feel it next to his other injuries. Glancing down, the bites on his calf thankfully didn't look as bad as his shoulder wound was the previous day, but there were more of them.

Gale got up clumsily, bracing himself on a tree. Putting any excess weight on his torn muscles was unpleasant. He hopped over to his fallen bow, and began gathering the arrows that had spilled out of their quiver when he had fallen into the bush. He recovered several, and more from the bodies of the mutts, but he was still running low. Only about ten remained, but Gale laughed a little as he realized they wouldn't likely be needed. He laughed again as he realized the peculiar face Glimmer's mutt was making. If she could see it now, Gale knew she would be rolling in her grave over how much the beast was disgracing her name. Everything seemed strangely funny to Gale, now that the adrenaline had worn off, and some voice in the back of his head was screaming at him to stop laughing at everything but he couldn't.

He knew he was going crazy. That it was finally all too much, and he was starting to crack, but no matter how hard he tried to hold himself together, things were falling apart. He clumsily patched his injuries with the last of the bandages in the medicine container, before limping away from the bodies. He barely remembered to retrieve his knife from the last mutt and wipe it off before putting it into his belt. Gale stumbled through the woods, laughing at nothing until he suddenly found himself waist deep in a frigid pool. Memories of the stick-sand came instantly to mind, and he sloshed out of the water hastily, the hysterically giddy feeling thankfully fading.

He pulled himself out of the water using a few marshy plants, and sat down by the side of the pond. When Gale looked down at the flowers around him, he gave a genuine smile, and a little chuckle, much different from the ones emitted in the past few minutes. Gale began pulling the Katniss plants up by their roots and munching them slowly as he leaned against a tree. He felt slightly ridiculous, and cold with his clothing completely soaked up to his waist, but he was too out of it to care much. Instead he sat, and waited.

* * *

><p><strong>Review!<strong>


	17. Quem di diligunt adulescens moritur

**Just so everyone knows, the chapter title/Latin quote of the day means "He whom the gods love dies young."  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C<br>C C** 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>17. <strong>****Quem di diligunt adulescens moritur****

A bird call intruded on Gale's thoughts and he opened his eyes drowsily. He blinked quickly, ashamed at having fallen asleep, and glanced around for any threat before listening closer to what had awoken him. Instead of replicating the calls of the woodland creatures, a mockingjay was letting loose a very human cry of pain. It was slightly distorted, coming from the bird's mouth, but the sound was in the correct range for the bird to mimic accurately. Gale shook himself and stood, not entirely certain he had not dreamed the entire encounter with the mutts, but his protesting calf soon told otherwise. At any rate, he was feeling much less delirious, and began silently hurrying toward the general location of his prey, a new wave of adrenalin chasing off any sleepiness.

A faint thrill of success ran through him, and despite his uneasiness with the task ahead, a part of him relished in his ability to capture his prey. It was always the same, even after years of hunting. He felt the same excitement and glee every time an untested trap managed to snare a previously unobtainable quarry. It told him he was still intelligent, and still capable of improvement. Setting snares was a way to test himself, as much as get new food, and this was his hardest target yet. While Gale knew some felt disappointment at their prey's foolishness, he wasn't one of them. True, it would have been better for the girl if she had been just a little bit smarter, but she had had her chance, and Gale was determined to show no mercy. He had learned that lesson early on.

It was one of the first few weeks he had been hunting. Emboldened by his successes with small game, he had been curious to see if he could capture anything larger. He had made note of the paths created by roving packs of wild dogs, and thought he knew how to capture one. After setting up a now simplistic snare, he had gone to bed anxious. He had rushed out the following morning to see what had happened during the night, and to his delight a younger pup had become entangled in the rope. It was a cute animal, and his fourteen-year-old self had imagined training it and teaching it to help him. The dog wasn't so keen on the idea, and had bitten him badly as he attempted to set it free. Mercy got him nowhere, and the next time he caught a wild dog he had killed it without thought. It was the way of things, not necessarily nice, but unavoidable.

With this thought in mind, Gale rushed through the woods as quickly as possible while maintaining absolute silence. His burning calf was difficult to ignore, but after carefully altering his stride, it didn't cause him much delay. He suspected it had been numbed somewhat by his cold clothing, and was anxious to reach his destination before the pain returned. He held his bow at the ready, intending on shooting at first sight. Unlike the Capitol, he saw no need to risk himself in hand-to-hand combat for the sake of an entertaining fight. A predator couldn't survive more than a few battles if there was only a probable guarantee that they wouldn't be injured. Ultimately, he knew a sixty percent chance of success meant a forty percent chance that he would die painfully, and while it might pay to bet on those odds once, repeatedly doing so would only end badly. And the odds weren't exactly in his favor as of late.

Gale caught sight of her as she was pulling herself laboriously under a bush. She was silent, but a dark trail marked her path and Gale realized with a sickening jolt that bone had punctured through her skin. Maybe even both bones from the angle of her movements. He admired her bravery and strength in her silence, but he had already learned not to underestimate her once. She was good, he remarked to himself as he loosened a bolt at her. A light breeze came up as he shot, and he missed his target, the arrow soaring into her side rather than imbedding in her heart. She let out a brief yelp of pain, and Gale approached like a ghost out of the night, trying to get a better angle. She still grasped at the dirt trying desperately to flee, but it was hopeless. The girl left her legs trailing behind her, using a tree root to drag herself behind the mediocre shelter of the tree's contemptuous branches. She struggled, still fighting for life, but Gale could see faint tear-tracks reflected in the too-bright moonlight.

"Sorry, kid." She looked at him. Her eyebrows were knit together in a glare, but there was also sadness in her gaze. Sadness, pain, and hopelessness. In that brief flash he was reminded how Katniss had been at that age, starving to death in district 12. He tried to push the thought aside but it stuck.

"No, you're not. Otherwise you wouldn't have done it." Definitely reminiscent of Katniss.

"Sorry it had to happen, at least." Gale felt his anger rising at the situation, but forced himself to control his speech. He couldn't afford any more rants at the Capitol. One could probably be excused by insanity, or a strange fixation on killing Careers, but any more and he was dead.

The girl nodded, but wasn't in the forgiving mood. Gale couldn't really blame her for it, and was just thankful she wasn't quite as vindictive as Vix. He raised his bow again, intent on ending the poor girl's misery, but she stopped him her eyes wide.

"Wait, can't I just." She had pause to catch her breath, coughing so painfully Gale was a little concerned she wouldn't finish her thought. "Can't I say goodbye?" The pleading look on her face stopped him. For a second she stopped looking like braves, strong, Katniss, and more like his friend's little sister, who couldn't hurt a fly. Gale could only nod absently, hand falling to his side. He kept his emotions swiftly in check, and paid as little attention to her words as he could. It was no use reminding him of all the other people he was hurting or killing with his actions. Gale gazed off into the distance, watching as a few last tendrils of mist, natural this time, stole through the shadows. Their elegant dance was the only movement, besides the occasional flutter as a bird flew to his neighbor's tree to discuss the night's happenings. The sky was still dark, but looking east he could see a faint lightening in the dark hues, and the sweet calls of birds indicated daylight was not far away.

The pause in the girl's words caught his attention, and she looked at him, face blank, hardened once again. That was good. She had made her way into the Games through unhappy chance, but once Reaped the girl had made a worthy opponent out of herself. Bravery in the face of death wasn't something meant for twelve-year-old little girls, but if she wanted her honor, she would have it. Gale smiled grimly. Although the girl would likely never know it, she had earned his respect. But she was still so young. He yearned to console her, to tell her that everything was going to be ok. But it wasn't and they both knew it. His words would sound empty, so he refused to utter them. Instead Gale relaxed his fingers, and let the arrow thud into her heart. She gasped as it struck her, but the cannon went off quickly, as she died without another word.

Gale stepped back from the body, as it slumped to the ground around the tree roots. He was determined not to show any sign of weakness, not because of what the audience would think, but because to do so would be like letting lose a trap barely containing a vicious animal. All the snarling twisting emotions would come bursting forth. So instead he pulled his arrows from her chest, and walked slowly away. Only two tributes remained in the arena, and Gale knew the number would soon dwindle to one. The birds fell silent before one gave the call signaling the approach of a hover-craft. He didn't turn back, and the birds resumed their pre-morning calls.

Gale sat on the side of a fallen, moss-covered, tree and coated his weapons once again in poison. He had forgotten to do so in the midst of his excitement at finding his traps successful. He might have saved the girl a good deal of pain, but, then again, she wouldn't have had a chance to say goodbye. He had forgotten, for better or for worse, but he wouldn't be making the same mistake twice. He would take all the advantages he could get. Thresh was strong, and needed no pity or remorse.

Gale half-heartedly fixed one of the bandages on his arm, as it had come loose sometime during the night. His wounds still throbbed, and Gale was certain he had ruined all the stitching in his shoulder, but he was confident he could ignore the pain in the upcoming fight. Fear of death did wonders for concentration.

Perhaps that was the one advantage tributes from the poorer districts possessed. They knew how to fight for survival. Half of the children willing to give up in the face of difficult times were already dead by the time the Reaping arrived. The average tribute was better prepared for harsh conditions, and a struggle for life, and sometimes the districts spit out someone like Johanna Mason, or even Titus. People willing to do whatever it took to make it home. Just as Gale was about to start off again, unable to dally inspecting his wounds any more, several loud explosions broke the silence. Gale turned in confusion eyes searching the surrounding area. There was no hovercraft, so Thresh hadn't died, but it took him a while to realize what had happened. The remaining mines had gone off. At least Gale knew where they wanted him to go.

Gale pushed himself off the log, and began walking in the direction of the plain and the Cornucopia. Halfway there, he realize he was still carrying the backpack, let it down with a light laugh. No need to carry superfluous weight. All he kept with him were the three knives he had liberated from Clove at one point or another, the quiver, his arrows, and the bow. The woods around him seemed exceedingly beautiful as he strode purposefully through the early morning light. He stayed alert, watching in case the Gamemakers decided to set the girl's mutt loose on him, but thankfully they must have decided the trick was overdone. Nothing attacked him, nothing jumped out, but Gale knew beyond a shadow of doubt that if he decided to turn and run from his fate things would not remain pleasant for long.

From the light chirp of a sparrow, to the harsh caw of some crows, to the long mournful tune of some strange avian creature, the forest was alight with sound. It was at peace, and entirely separate from the tragedies that had occurred in its midst. He nibbled on a piece of bird for some quick extra strength, but his nearly sleepless night was beginning to affect him. There was nothing for it but to continue quickly, and hope the final battle was not drawn out over too long a time. It would be stupid to assume the Gamemakers would grant him any more rest, so close to the grand finale.

Despite his weariness, Gale rushed. Although his leg pained him with every step, reaching the open area surrounding the Cornucopia first would practically guarantee him victory. If he could get even one arrow in Thresh, the Game would be over, however Gale doubted it would be so simple. His suspicions proved true as the ground before him crumbled away, opening a direct line to hell. A wave of heat poured out from the fire contained inside it. Gale skidded to a halt abruptly, barely stopping himself from slipping in by grabbing a nearby tree. The gap formed a line in front of him that was only around six feet across, but there was no telling if it would open more as soon as he was in the air. It was about five feet deep, and flames only licked the bottom three. He wouldn't die if he fell in, but it would make the fight a lot less even.

Gale looked for an end to the line, but as far as he could see, it made a complete loop in front of him. At the very least he would have to go miles out of his way. But it would be better to take longer than arrive with massive burns covering half his face. Gale began to walk east along the line, when he stopped. A black parcel floated down to him. Black parcels had only been used once before, as far as Gale could tell, when the Gamemakers had distributed warmer clothing after too many tributes had frozen to death. It was a gift directly from them, and Gale found himself wanting to ignore it. He opened the container, already knowing what was inside. One final test of his suitability as a Victor.

"Guess I shouldn't have taught you all that game." Gale forced a smile on his face and winked. He pulled out a shot glass as well as a bottle filled with about four glasses worth of alcohol. If it was up to him, he'd probably dump the whole lot before going over, but he doubted that was what the Gamemakers had in mind. He cursed mentally. To go into the final duel in the Games without a clear head was suicide. But so was ignoring what the audience demanded. "Bottoms up." Gale tipped back the first shot of alcohol. It burned going down, but tasted radically different from Flamer. He did the same to a second before he could think about it too much, and grabbed the rest of the bottle, gave himself a small head start and dumped it as he jumped over the flames.

It was lucky he had drunk as much as he had. Whatever was in the liquid made the fire rise much higher than standard alcohol would have, with the flames momentarily licking up to his waist. Thankfully nothing caught fire, but Gale still stumbled, and his leg gave out in protest at the exertions when he landed. He glanced back at the fire, confused. Gale feared for a moment that the liquid had contained more actual alcohol than usual, but quickly dismissed the idea. Even pure alcohol couldn't make the flames leap up more than six feet in the quantities he had poured in. It must have been a special recipe by the Gamemakers. There was no way to tell how drunk he would get, so Gale started moving immediately.

Trial by fire aside, he limped closer to his goal, waiting for the buzz to set in. To his astonishment, it still hadn't after more than a mile. Counter-intuitively, he felt better than ever, and realized the Gamemakers had switched the alcohol with some type of energy drink. It seemed rewards came with good behavior. Gale snorted internally, and continued. He might be their lap dog for the time being, but he vowed to himself it wouldn't last.

Gale held his bow in hand, arrow ready to kill at the slightest movement, as he entered the grassy area around the Cornucopia. The sun had not yet crest over the edge of the low cliff leading to the plain, but the sky was painted with brilliant yellows and pinks trailing off into deep, star-speckled, purples. There was no way it could be authentic. The backdrop was just too perfect. As far as he could see, Thresh hadn't yet arrived, but he approached cautiously all the same. The grass was torn up where the mines had gone off, and burned-out trash littered the area. Even the gleaming hull of the Cornucopia had been tarnished with soot. Gale had planned to avoid the areas that had contained mines as a precaution, but he needn't have bothered. They had all exploded, leaving deep craters in the ground around them, and recently-overturned dirt had been flung every which way. He couldn't see any tracks, but they could easily have been covered up by the chaotic patterns of dirt and far-flung clumps of turf.

There was still no sign of Thresh, but Gale was on edge. The stillness and peace felt unnatural, and he was alert for some new danger. He fidgeted, tense and hyper alert. He wandered walked around the Cornucopia at a distance, looking for anyone concealed in its shadow, but there was no-one. He was about to mount the bronze structure to wait for his prey, when he realized Thresh's hiding spot. The Cornucopia itself was bent almost in two, and there was a small hollow invisible from the outside. To check it, he would have to venture into the mouth of the Cornucopia itself. Gale swore. His bow would be worse than useless in such close quarters, but there was no way around it. Even if Thresh was the simplest of morons, he couldn't be stupid enough to leave the sanctuary provided by the metal hull of the Cornucopia. He walked around the entrance of the horn, and stopped several feet from the shadows, far away enough that Thresh wouldn't be able to surprise him in a sudden rush. His bow was still trained on the entrance as a precaution.

"I know you're in there, Thresh." The reply was slightly distorted by the metal.

"And now I know you're out there." Gale rolled his eyes. "Get in here, I don't have all day."

"Or you could come out here," Gale suggested. Thresh didn't even bother responding. "Fuck, I'll wait as long as I need to." Gale looked to the cameras and hastily shook his head. He had at least half a plan, and didn't need to be hurried up by something nasty.

"Fine by me." They waited in tense silence for about five minutes before Gale decided he had stretched everyone's nerves out long enough. He walked closer to the Cornucopia itself, laying his bow, arrows, and two extra knives outside the mouth. They would be easy to reach if he could get to them, but not immediately noticeable for Thresh to use against him. Next, Gale rubbed dust into his shoes to decrease the amount of noise they would make on the metal, but kept them on for kicking, he debated putting on the night vision goggles, but eventually decided against it. They would only become cumbersome once he drew the fight out into the open. If he had the chance to draw the fight out into the open.

Gale steeled himself, looking into the Cornucopia. The black abyss looked like the entryway to death. He wanted to say something, anything, but doing so would give away his presence. He knelt to the ground, and wrote "I love you," in the dirt. He was tempted to write "Catnip" after it, but decided to leave his message open ended. His message, not his goodbye, he insisted. He was running out of things to do. Any more hesitation would make them think he was a coward. Gale stuck only his head into the maw of the beast. He let his eyes slowly adjust, and began to make out the general curvature of the horn. The sun broke out over the horizon, and he knew it was his signal to continue. If he waited any longer, a shadow would give away his presence.

The arena was utterly silent as he stepped into the metal rim, his years of perfecting his stealth finally paying off. Not even the light scrape of shoe on bronze betrayed him as he crept closer to the bend in the metal. There could be no hesitation and no rushing, only steady, cautious movement bringing him closer to either victory or death. He didn't make it all the way down the corridor. An immense force hit his skull and he went flying back out into the morning light. His brain was rattled, but not dashed out of his head by the force of Thresh's blow, and he barely could think enough to roll as the rock collided with the ground where he had been only moments before.

Gale tried to scramble to his feet, and back away but Thresh came on to him like a coal train. A large rock rested easily in one hand, while the other was empty but curled, ready to lash out. Gale could only register the lack of remorse in the man's eyes before the rock smashed down on his already injured hand, breaking it. He had no time to recover before Thresh threw him to the ground. He hardly had time to wonder when it had all gone wrong as he rolled away from another rib-cracking blow. This time he was able to gain his footing, and darted around the slightly slower boy. Gale paused, waiting for him to lunge again, and when he did Gale stepped back before stabbing down at Thresh's hand. Thresh dropped his weapon in surprise, but recovered quickly. Gale had somehow held on thus far to the knife, even with his broken hand, but a quick bash from an enraged Thresh left it sailing through the air to lie forsaken in the dust.

Gale cried out as the broken bones moved and grated against each other, but he had bigger things to worry about. Thresh had taken advantage of the distraction and pinned him to the ground. Gale thrashed and writhed, trying to escape, but Thresh held him effortlessly. His opponent's strength was endless, and Gale was like a rattlesnake trapped by an eagle, once deadly but now hopelessly outclassed. Gale punched, but Thresh's position made it impossible for his fists to gain momentum. Thresh's hands moved for Gale's throat, and he held them off with all his might. The pain was intolerable as the bones of his hand began to stick out sickeningly from the skin from the force he was using trying to slow the inevitable.

Enormous hands closed around Gale's neck, cutting off his air supply. There was a single-minded determination behind the action, and thought of loosening the iron grip was impossible. Gale tried anyway, tugging uselessly at his attacker's hands before ignoring them and going for the face. Gale dug at where he thought Thresh's eyes were, but was only rewarded with a savage bite before the hands closed in tighter still. Any more pressure and his throat would be crushed instead of strangled. Gale fought bitterly, trying to buy time, but his vision was darkening. His lungs burned, but no air could reach them. He was dying, as certainly and steadily as the sun was rising on their battle.

Gale could barely tell up from down, only the crushing weight on top of him reminding him of his task. His entire existence was pain, from his hand to his lungs to his still-ringing head. The world started shaking, but Gale couldn't tell if it was real or just part of the dying process. He selfishly longed for unconsciousness, for a break from the misery, but continued to fight on. He refused to give up, as long as he still lived. The darkness crept closer, and his extremities ceased their protests. A dull tingling sensation stole over them, more frightening than the pain, and Gale writhed again in a last desperate struggle for life. He failed. The darkness completed its path across his eyes. Gale passed out. A cannon sounded.


	18. Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt

**18. Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt.**

A slow, steady beep greeted Gale as he pulled toward consciousness. He was strapped down on a bed, and could feel the faint fuzziness that meant he was stoned out of his mind. He searched his brain for a rational reason for his state, but couldn't find one. His muddled brain began to worry about the cost of a doctor, much less a hospital room, before his memory started returning. He had been reaped. The Games. April. Glimmer. Gale began fighting against his bonds as the beeping grew faster. A man entered his dimly lit room, expression irate.

"Settle down, it's only three in the morning." He tutted, and began pushing chemicals into a bag attached to Gale by a thin tube. Gale had no time to ask questions or recover from his shock before darkness closed in again.

* * *

><p><strong>I'd say I'm sorry for the long wait, but I'm really not. It was intentional. I wanted you to at least begin thinking that I'd killed Gale off, and the story was over. Yeah, I'm kind of a Dick. Complain in the reviews. Anyway, enjoy the next chapter too.<strong>


	19. Amicitias immortales

**Not as happy with the quote on this one.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C<br>C C** 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>19. <strong>**Amicitiae immortales, mortales inimicitias debere esse**

The next time his eyes opened, Gale was thinking more clearly, although a throbbing in his hand questioned whether that was an improvement. He was still chained to the bed, but was no longer alone. The beeping machines and tubes were gone, but a doctor stood watching him with calculating eyes. Gale glared at her, but the woman didn't react. As she made no move to speak, he glanced at the rest of the room. It was simple, white and immaculate. Soft lights lit the room, and Gale realized it was still quite dark, probably for his poor, unused eye's benefit. He was wearing nothing, but sheets covered whatever modesty he had left.

The fight came back to Gale in vivid detail, and he wondered momentarily why he was still alive. He couldn't have _won_; he was as good as dead after he passed out. Perhaps they had decided to put a stop to it? Gale shook his head at the ridiculous thought. Maybe he wasn't as rational as he had first assumed. Somehow, against all odds, he must have survived. He distantly recalled Thresh spasming on top of him as he was passing out. The poison from his knife must have killed Thresh moments after he had gone unconscious. It was the only explanation he could piece together that made a modicum of sense. The doctor continued to study him, and Gale grew uneasy.

"Wh-" Gale broke off and started coughing. His throat felt torn in two, and he belatedly realized using it hadn't been the best decision. The woman moved toward him and he flinched away before realizing she was only offering a glass of water. He stared at it suspiciously. Reason commanded that they had no reason to kill him, but it still took an enormous force of will power to take the glass and drink from it. He would have to work to kill that particular paranoia before it got the best of him. Just because he was willing to poison people when they were least expecting it, didn't mean everyone was. His throat was soothed, but he didn't wish to attempt speaking again. The doctor took the hint.

"Congratulations appear to be in order. Your last fight was truly spectacular. The whole country's been raving about it." It disgusted him that a doctor, someone who had dedicated their lives to saving people, talked about his murder with such enthusiasm. "The Games ended yesterday morning. You woke up last night at around three, so we had to put you back to sleep until a reasonable hour." She gave a tittering laugh, and Gale smiled blankly back. "It's noon now, and while I don't think you'll want to eat anything for a few more hours, you're free to talk. You should recover pretty quickly, after all you were in the arena for less than a week." Gale nodded, for lack of anything else to do. "You should be able to talk now, of course," she hinted again eagerly.

"Thanks for patching me up." His voice was rough, but the woman beamed at the praise.

"Really, it was nothing. Just doing my job." Gale smiled as non-murderously as he could. "We'll be taping your reunion with your mentors in about an hour, but until then I'm afraid you'll just have to sit." She made no move to leave.

"Tell me again what exactly happened while I was out."

"Oh, it was so dramatic," she gushed. "We had to rush onto the field to get you, Thresh hadn't let go even after he died, and we were worried for a bit that there'd be no Victor at all!" Gale had little time to dwell on that prospect before she continued. "Once you were on the hovercraft it was still a little touch and go for a bit, but thankfully he never crushed your trachea or did permanent damage to your larynx. I don't know what we would have done if that had happened!" Probably mourned for a few days over a lost star and then gotten over it, he thought darkly. Gale tuned out the rest of her spiel as she yammered on for endless minutes. He didn't really want to think about anything. Part of him still refused to believe that it was all over. That he had actually won. He was a Victor.

Gale stared blankly at the wall.

"My goodness, look at the time. You should be getting dressed!" Gale did his best to ignore her presence as he slipped off the bed and took the offered clothes. If he had been anywhere else, he would have smiled to find that his leg no longer burned in agony with every step. New skin had been plastered on to cover the wound, and he suspected only drugs stopped the pain from setting in. He tore off the hospital gown, and quickly put on the offered clothes. The doctor had already seen it all, as had, presumably, most of Panem. It wasn't a very cheerful thought. "You look fantastic! Go ahead, they're waiting for you." She held open the door, and Gale stepped out.

The hallway was plain and brilliantly illuminated. There were no shadows to hide in, only pure, unadulterated technology and modernism. Gale realized the room with the bed's lights had been slowly brightening to help his eyes adjust. It looked identical to the previous room, but long and rectangular. A few cameras hovered unobtrusively, but otherwise he was alone at his end. Effie, Haymitch, Portia, Cinna and his stylists stood to greet him. Effie was crying, Portia looked close to following suit, and even Cinna smiled. Gale walked slowly forward. It was nice to see them again, but he wasn't certain he could summon the emotion necessary to act ecstatic. Then he caught the slightly tense look on Haymitch's face, and beamed, coming to himself. He wasn't totally out of the woods, yet.

"Gale!"

"Effie!" Gale rushed to her, before lifting her and spinning her once around. She was extremely light due to the Capitol's ludicrous body weight expectations. She started, and he laughed. "So nice to see you all again." Haymitch gave him a slight nod, but Gale knew it couldn't hurt to lay it on thicker.

"Oh, I knew you'd win. We all were rooting for you." Gale ignored thoughts of April.

"Well here I am! It didn't seem to be too much trouble, I don't know what on earth you two were worried about."

"Well, I had a bit more to contend with, my time around. And we can't all set records." Gale turned to the Haymitch for the first time.

"You know me, won't settle for less than the best. What's the new official record?"

"Which one?" Gale turned to Troilus.

"I set more then one? I was only aiming for overall time." Gale winked at the cameras looking pleased, trying to distance his words and the conversation from the past few days' events. If he kept it clinical, he'd have a chance of re-convincing the audience he was a Career through and through.

"You tied with Arcis for highest total number of kills from a Victor. Of course, Titus beat you both out." Arcis was one of the very few tributes who had taken the first Game seriously. As the others were busy coming to terms with the fact that they were actually expected to kill one another, she had slaughtered them.

"And your overall time was six days, nineteen hours, and two minutes." Gale was confused momentarily until he realized they had started the clock at noon the first day.

"You also got most kills in an hour with the poison. Beat out Nero from 2 in the 36h Game. And you weren't even in the Cornucopia." Nero's triumph at the bloodbath was a favorite replay in district 12's scant moments of electricity. Gale had watched in horror when he was younger as the boy had destroyed his opponents mercilessly. His was that year the bloodbath had gotten its name. And now Gale had beaten him.

"I hadn't even realized. How many did he get again?"

"Only five. There was some dispute over whether he had another, but the Gamemakers ruled suicide back then, and they aren't changing it. He's a little disappointed." Haymitch put the matter lightly, but Gale made a mental not to watch his back.

"Anything else?" Gale asked half-joking, trying to stop his voice from going weak.

"Well, they haven't set up a specific record yet, but everyone's been talking about your time to kill ratio. Usually only hardcore fans pay any attention to it, but yours is extremely high. You averaged only 12 hours 8 minutes between kills."

"That's a lot of down time. What on earth was I doing with myself?" Gale laughed along with the stylist's assistants. Effie was too emotional to join in, but forced a watery smile. There was a slight pause.

"Don't I get a hug?" Hugging Haymitch wasn't high on Gale's to do list, but a quick look told him otherwise. Gale pulled a face.

"I don't know. It's hard to tell who's been in the arena the past six days." Gale pretended to wave away Haymitch's stench before closing in for a hug.

"Keep it up, and don't do anything half as stupid as that fucking rant in the arena," he whispered. Chastised, Gale drew back.

"It really is good to see you all." The cameras clicked audibly shut, but Gale wasn't fool enough to think no one was still recording them. "So what's the plan?"

"It may feel a bit rushed, but they're crowning you and showing the Re-Cap later tonight. I'll bet you haven't looked in a mirror yet, but they've already completed most of your makeup. Tomorrow will be the official interview, but you'll probably stay in town for a few more days before heading home. I just _know_ you'll love it here! You've already been invited to some _very_ exclusive parties." Effie gave a wink half congratulatory, half suggestive. Her tears lay forgotten on her cheeks.

"Lets head back up to the rooms. I want a chance to debrief Gale before the ceremony."

"Always business," said Effie dismissively, which Gale thought rather rich coming from her. "The two of you should be celebrating! I know old Fir wasn't nearly this cross when you won." Fir had won the seventh Hunger Games. She was half delusional by the time Haymitch came around, and Gale only had faint memories of her funeral.

"Yes, but the Games aren't over quite yet, and we have his image to work on." Haymitch practically shoved Gale into the elevator. "You have fun, I'll send him down when we're done talking." Haymitch closed the doors before Effie could interject, but Gale could still see her incensed face through the glass. He gave her an apologetic shrug in an attempt to mollify her, with little success. The elevator jetted upwards, and Gale looked questioningly at Haymitch. They were in the Command Center, a different building from the one in which the tributes had resided in prior to the Games, but it seemed to have the same general set-up. To Gale's surprise, the elevator stopped on the third floor.

"We're stopping by Beetee and Wiress's room." He gave no further explanation, but Gale didn't ask. They stepped into the room, and two middle-aged victors got up from the couch they had been seated on. Gale felt distinctly uncomfortable as he recalled that he had personally killed both of district three's tributes. The man waved him off.

"Doesn't matter. Cobalt was a fool for not telling us about his plan. He's better off. And Ferris…" The man trailed off with a sad look. "We'll give you some privacy." The man herded his companion over to another room. She paused once to look at Gale before turning back to the wire in her hands. She manipulated it delicately, and Gale found himself admiring her skill. The door shut, and Haymitch finally turned to face him.

"Sorry, but I'll get you acquainted with them later. They rigged this room so all the Capitol bugs will hear is an awkward conversation of you apologizing to the Mentors. It's not perfect, and we'll have to go to all the other floors, but it gets us some time to talk."

"And districts 1 and 2?" Haymitch laughed.

"If you're even thinking about going anywhere near the Mentors from one or two right now, you did a good job fooling me about your intelligence." He grew serious once again. "But no more stupid questions. We only have about five minutes. Ten if we push it." He looked squarely at Gale. "I don't know what possibly possessed you to condemn the Careers like that, but we'll have to work with it. Say you went crazy, or that you were secretly jealous. Whatever it takes to make the Capitol look good." Gale nodded.

"Right, now on to the worse part." Haymitch took a breath, and Gale was a little startled to see he looked regretful, almost uncomfortable even. "Maybe I should have warned you before the Games, but it's too late to think about that now. There's one thing you have to understand. Your old life is over. Gone. The sooner you accept that, the easier this'll be." Gale made to protest, but Haymitch cut him off. "None of that. Your every move will be watched from now on, and if you don't follow the rules, it won't be you who pays the price."

"Look, I know I'll have to watch what I say during the interview, and there are the other Games, but other than that…" Gale trailed off as Haymitch fixed him with a somber look.

"With some Victors, that's true. But there are some other commitments you'll have to make," said Haymitch awkwardly. "It's better I tell you now. Over the next few days, probably sooner rather than latter, President Snow will approach you. He'll essentially ask you to be his whore. Whatever you do, don't say no." For one moment, Gale thought Haymitch was joking.

"What the hell? Why would he want me to be a _whore_? That's ridiculous. Besides he's already got Finnick to…" Gale trailed off, the pieces coming together.

"Exactly. He likes to think of it as some extra revenue. Most of the better looking tributes over the past few years have been asked, there's almost always a market." Haymitch's face was grim.

"And if I say no?" Gale's response was less accusatory then resigned.

"Step out of line, and they'll kill your family, your friends, everyone you give a shit about." Gale was tactful enough not to ask after Haymitch's dark look, but found himself understanding him a bit more.

"Right," he said shakily. From a rational standpoint, it wasn't too much of an adjustment in his worldview. One of the groups he had believed free was more enslaved than ever, but he had accepted worse things from the Capitol. He should have expected it, all things considered. If they had no qualms with sentencing innocent children to death, why should they have issues threatening and raping other, less naïve groups?

"You'll get used to it," was Haymitch's only response. He glanced around, and Gale unconsciously mimicked him. "I don't want to talk about it here, but there may still be some hope." Gale eyed him questioningly, but he shook his head. "We'll talk back in the district. For now, convince everyone you're a good little Career." Haymitch patted him condescendingly on the head, and Gale rolled his eyes. A knock startled them, but it was just Beetee warning them that five minutes had passed. "Let's get going, the shorter this conversation, the better. Besides, we've got a large number of awkward conversations to have."

They said their goodbyes to Beetee and Wiress before backing out into the elevator. Haymitch pushed the button for five, saying, "You can talk with Finnick later. He should be at some of the parties you're going to. Tunna won't want to say anything to you. We don't get along too well." The elevator dinged at five, and Haymitch gestured for Gale to get off. Only one of the mentors was there to greet them.

"Sorry, Tyre's high off his ass and battling a daisy in the dining room." The woman herself didn't look entirely sober, and her words were severely slurred. Gale didn't know what to say, but Haymitch's social skills were even more lacking so he was forced to speak.

"I'm very sorry about Vix. She was a worthy opponent." The woman only paid attention to half his words, and Gale felt aggravated. Vix _had_ done a reasonably good job. She was original, daring, and smart. Gale was just smarter. And it looked as though her mentors hadn't even tried helping her. Haymitch might have been the district 12 drunk, but at least he had sobered up when he thought they had a chance. Gale stumbled through some vague courtesies, before backing out of the room. He saw Haymitch mouth something involving the word Career, and vowed to be ruder during the next visit.

At six, the victors were even less sane but remarkably easier to deal with. They were both heavily addicted to morphling, a recreational drug available to the rich, and couldn't formulate words properly. Gale said he was sorry about what had happened to their tributes anyway, trying to remember if he had killed them. The implications behind not being capable of remembering all the people he had killed weren't worth thinking over. They left quickly and moved on to seven.

Gale recognized the female victor immediately. Johanna Mason could have won him some money a few years previous if he had had any spare change to bet. Gale had guessed she was feigning idiocy, and had used her as an example Games since then to help identify fakers. The man wasn't as recent a Victor, so Gale didn't know who he was, but he and Haymitch immediately struck up a conversation.

"Congrats on winning." Johanna's expression was vicious, but Gale was prepared to meet her blow for blow.

"Thanks gorgeous." Gale winked, seeing an opportunity for acting as Careerish as possible. "Glad to meet someone under half a century old." Gale moved closer, trying to make her uncomfortable, but Johanna only reciprocated, unintimidated. He wondered briefly if she was also subject to a deal made with the Capitol. She reached a hand out to touch his cheek.

"You're cute. Like a little lost puppy." He caught her hand, determined not to be outclassed, and held it in his, rubbing it with his thumb.

"I'd say you were an innocent little girl, but we both know how dangerous it is to think that." She smirked.

"You'll be fun for a change. Finnick gets boring after a while." Gale nodded suavely at the double meaning.

"I'm hoping to be a bit more than a second choice after Finnick Odair."

"Alright, let him go Johanna," said her district mate, breaking them up. Gale released her hand and they each took a step back.

"Gale can handle it." The two exchanged a look, and the man's demeanor changed slightly.

"It was nice talking with you Haymitch. I'll see you at the next Games at latest." Something passed between them, but Gale didn't know either well enough to sense what was going on. He wanted to ask Haymitch about it, but resigned himself to wait until after they were back in district 12. There were too many ears in the Capitol for Gale to feel comfortable having even an innocent conversation.

"Nice meeting you Gale." A challenge resided in Johanna's grin, but Gale only smiled brightly back.

"You too."

"Good job handling Johanna," said Haymitch as the elevator doors closed.

"It was enjoyable. I look forward to getting to know her better." Haymitch rolled his eyes at Gale's insinuation. The doors opened again, and they stepped out. He vaguely recognized the man as Keith, a man in his late twenties who had won when Gale was seven or eight. The woman was less familiar.

"I'm sorry about what happened to your tributes. Especially the kid." Gale felt bad about not knowing his name, but it fit in with his supposed personality. Keith nodded in acceptance, but the woman glared.

"You should be," she said before leaving the room. Keith made no apologies for her behavior, only shrugged.

"One of her kids is getting to be about twelve soon," he said, as if it explained everything. Which, when Gale thought about it, it did.

"Well, I'm sorry anyway. I wasn't able to help him like I did April."

"The Games are rough. I get it. But, no offense, I don't think either of us has much to say to you right now." The man seemed normal, especially considering the other victors, but perhaps that only meant he was more torn. They retreated into the elevator, pressing the button for ten.

"The nine victors are like the ones from six, but even worse. They wouldn't even realize we were there." Gale still wanted to apologize, but held himself back.

"Thank God. I still can't believe you're making me do this," he added.

"The other mentors'll hate you less if you do it. It's become something of a tradition when a higher district tribute wins." Gale knew Haymitch was probably stretching it, but decided not to comment.

"Quick, how did the boy die?"

"Thresh got him. The two had been wandering around on opposite sides of the field when the Gamemakers decided to speed things up. Didn't stand a chance. Hello Plume," said Haymitch as the doors opened.

"Fen is in the other room, thank God. Come on in."

"Gale, this is Plume." Haymitch decided to fulfill his obligation as mutual friend for once and introduce them. Gale politely shook the woman's hand. She had a firm grip, and a scar running down the side of her arm.

"Pleasure to meet you, Gale. I assume you're apologizing to the Victors?" Gale nodded his head, feeling stupid.

"Well, then lets just say no hard feelings and be done with it. After all, you didn't kill either of them." Gale stood awkwardly to the side as the two Victors exchanged pleasantries. They appeared to be friendly with one another, albeit not necessarily true friends. They chatted aimlessly for a few minutes before Plume interceded on his behalf.

"I'm certain we're boring poor Gale to tears. Best the two of you get on up to 11. You'll have plenty to talk about there." The woman's voice was still cheerful, which suggested to Gale that she had either a subtle sense of humor or a sadistic streak. Or more likely both.

"I suppose I won't see you for another two years, Plume. You and Pullet trade off right?"

"Yes. So do Fen and Thistle. We try to leave the tributes with at least one sane mentor." They parted on that pleasant note. Gale was torn. Part of him hated the Victors from ten for sacrificing a tribute's chance at survival for the sake of a year off, but his pragmatic side insisted that perhaps then boy from ten would have become a threat. Haymitch eyed him, and Gale could tell he sensed his turmoil. He offered no solution, but instead shrugged as if to say, "it is the way it is."

Haymitch turned to Gale once the elevator doors cut them off from Plume. "Chaff and Seeder are both good mentors, and while they may not care about your apology now, it'll be worse if you don't." The doors gave a quiet ping, but other than that, the room was filled with silence. An elderly woman sat knitting, and a man in his forties reclined on a couch. A half empty-wine bottle sat in one hand, while the other ended at the wrist. He tossed back the bottle with a sigh, reminding Gale strongly of Haymitch.

"Look, I'm really sorry about…" Gale trailed off as the man gave a gruff laugh.

"What's there to be sorry about? Won me a bottle of expensive wine, you did." At Gale's questioning look, he continued. "Usually Haymitch and I split it, but after it was the three of you left we decided one of us wouldn't really need it." He laughed again; it was a strange mixture of hysteria and loss. "Thought Haymitch was going to win it for sure. Didn't think you had it in you to kill little old Rue or outclass Thresh. Even at the end I thought we'd end up splitting it anyways." The man continued talking, half to himself and half to Gale, but he stopped paying attention and turned to the woman.

"I really am sorry about," Gale grasped for the name momentarily, "Rue. I just- I'm sorry." She didn't look up, but her stitches faltered minutely when he mentioned the girl's name. Gale glanced helplessly at Haymitch, who gestured at the elevator.

"Head on up, I'll be taking back some of my lost wine." Haymitch abandoned him to sit with Chaff, and Gale couldn't find anything to say as he hurried out of the room. He punched the button for district 12, not knowing anywhere else to go. The rooms were thankfully empty, and were decorated in much the same manner as in the Tribute center. The only difference being that there were only two bedrooms instead of four. Gale ignored both settling for the couch. He didn't want to intrude on Effie or Haymitch's personal space. Once seated, there was nothing to do but think.

Think about everything he had done in the past week. All the emotions he had put off and hidden during the Games rushed to him and overwhelmed him. He broke down as he remembered every inconsiderate word, every heartless action. Glimmer, whimpering and asking for someone, anyone, to comfort her. Rue, dying at his feet and trying so hard to be strong and defiant to the last. The faint shock and betrayal on April's face as he ran her through. Even the deaths of the girls from three and nine weighed heavily on his conscience, not to mention how he had done absolutely nothing as the kid from eight was tortured and killed in front of him. He made a conscious decision then to learn their names. The names of everyone he had murdered; it would torment him, but he owed them that much.

Even the Careers, who he had hated instinctively since the moment he knew who, and more importantly what, they were, swayed his pity. They had lived by some sort of twisted honor code and agreement, and he had destroyed it. Fuck, had he killed them when their back was turned, or when they were caught unaware it would have been less shameful. Instead he had befriended them. Laughed with them, joked with them, flirted with them. He had dug his way deep into their group, learned everything about them and had still killed them. Betrayed them. Utter bewilderment and hurt had been frozen forever on their dying faces, more even than fear or accusation.

As much as he wanted to twist their personalities, and replace them with faceless cold-hearted killers in his memory, he couldn't. Pearl was a killer, but she was also a girl. Spoiled, maybe, and frank, but undeniably human. Marvel was smart and aloof, but could also enjoy a good joke with his faintly sadistic sense of humor. Clove had been friendly and intelligent. She could always calm Cato, when no-one else wanted to be within ten feet of him. Even Cato had his human side, however small. He had proved that in his final moments.

But they were Careers. They had known the potential consequences of their actions when they volunteered. They thrived on the pain of others, and felt a savage joy in killing. Gale tore at his hair. He shouldn't feel guilty. In all likelihood, he had saved the lives of a dozen starving kids by killing them and winning the Games. Only one could live, so why shouldn't it have been him? Why was he so repulsed by his actions? Everything had gone according to plan. Rue had said it best when he tried to say he was sorry. "No, you're not," she had replied. "Otherwise you wouldn't have done it." But he did feel sorry. There had been no other logical options, but he was still split. Fuck. There was no right answer, or if there was he hadn't picked it. He still couldn't see it.

Gale looked longingly at the dinning table. An unopened bottle of wine sat waiting for him. He wanted to get shitfaced. So drunk he wouldn't be able to remember why he was so pissed off and confused and guilty. Gale picked up the bottle and smashed it against the wood of the table. He knew if he didn't he'd end up drinking it all, but now wasn't the time to be childish. He had hated Haymitch and the other mentors for abandoning their tributes in favor of losing their memories, and no matter how tempting the idea he wouldn't succumb to it. The consequences of winning had never been as obvious to him as the consequences of losing, but now he wondered if it wouldn't have been better just to die, so he didn't have to keep thinking. Gale shook himself. What kind of disgusting form of humanity would do all that killing only to throw away the prize? It would be an insult to all the lives he had taken to commit suicide. If he couldn't handle the stress of winning, then he should have just given up in the arena and let someone else win. Cato, at least, wouldn't have felt so fucking guilty, he thought jealously.

The idea stuck. What was the point of it all if he sat around moping the rest of his life like Haymitch? He had fought dearly for his life, and as different as he knew it would be from his previous experience, he would damn well enjoy it. He laughed mirthlessly at the futile prospect, and decided to contemplate the less tasteful aspects of his reward. It strangely wasn't as disgusting a prospect as it should have been. Perhaps he had lost all his pride already after his relationship with Glimmer, but something told him the idea just hadn't fully sunk in yet. He didn't know how he would be able to feign love with the people he so abjectly despised.

But Haymitch's words hung over him, and he knew he would have to manage. He wasn't selfish enough to sacrifice the lives of his friends and family over a matter as simple as pride. Perhaps even if he played the part well, he could guarantee their safety from the Reapings. It would be a dangerous game. If he became too popular, shipping his relatives off to die would bring excitement to an otherwise boring Game, but even a slight rebellion could bring the same response. It was lucky that he had always been good with mind games.

* * *

><p><strong>There you have it. I hope the long chapter helped to alleviate<strong> **your hatred for me for the mean trick I played. Tell me in the reviews. **


	20. Nec meminisse pigebit Elissae

**Quick blurb on the Latin quote of the Day. Skip this if you don't actually care. It's from Virgil's The Aeneid, and means "It will not pain me to remember you Elissa(Dido.)" If you don't already know, things do not end well between Dido and Aeneas. She is a queen of the city Carthage, and he is journeying to found Rome (well, actually to found the city that will found Rome, but that Rome will be established due to his journey is very important (Rome will one day destroy Carthage).) Aeneas stops in his travels for a bit, and ends up marrying Dido, who is in love with him. The gods then yell at him for wavering in his determination to found Rome, and tell him he needs to leave to find a wife in Italy. **

**Aeneas agrees to what they ask, and immediately begins preparing the ships, etc. to leave. He tried to hide their flight from Dido, but she knows instinctively what is going on. ("Quis fallere possit amantem")(Who is able to deceive a lover?) She confronts him and asks whether their love, or their marriage, or even what will happen to her when he leaves means anything to him. Their 'marriage' was really them hooking up in a cave, but it was implied that he would stay afterwords. This isn't a society that really encourages sex outside of marriage, and she is extremely ashamed of herself. She even says that her modestly was her 'only path to the stars' aka the only way she could become immortal and live with the gods. She also tells Aeneas that all the countries around her are now mad that she chose him over them for marriage, and they will be attacking soon. She essentially begs him not to go, and says it will be the end of her if she does.**

** Aeneas replies with "Nec me meminisse pigebit Elissae." (It will not pain me to remember you, Dido.) He then breaks up with her in the worst way possible, refuses to accept any blame, and leaves, with her words falling on deaf ears. After he leaves, Dido builds a huge funeral pyre and then kills herself with a sword she had given to Aeneas as a gift, that he had left behind. Like I said, doesn't end well. On that note, have fun with the story!**

* * *

><p><strong>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C<br>C C** 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>20. Nec me meminisse pigebit Elissae<strong>

Suddenly bored, Gale flicked on the television. Instead of the standard programing, a small cartoon face appeared in the center of the screen. It began in a strangely clipped tone, "Hello, you have some saved programs. Would you like to view them?" Intrigued, Gale answered with a shaky "Yes," hoping no one was watching in case the television wasn't voice activated. Thankfully it was, and the image gave a short "Right away, sir," before leaving. The Panem seal flashed, and a vividly familiar scene replaced it. An elderly couch rested against a faded wall, each object no less elegant despite their obvious wear. He had seen the room only once in his life, but its inhabitants were intimately familiar.

"So Gale is your son?"

"Yes, he's my eldest." His mother's face was closed off, and she was wearing a dress he was only accustomed to see once a year, but she looked so close and immediate that Gale yearned to reach into the television and hug her. Her hands were folded refinedly on her lap, and she looked dignified, completely unabashed by her shabby clothes.

"And how did you feel, when he was first selected to compete in the Games?"

"Well proud, of course. Gale is strong, and if anyone has the determination to win, it's him." Dark wrinkles under his mother's eyes indicated pride wasn't her only feeling since Gale's Reaping.

"Besides his determination, why do you think Gale has what it takes to win?"

"Gale's strong, but he's also smart. You see what he did with those berries, and that's only the start of it. Gale can out-think and out-plan anyone who's ever been in the arena." Hazelle was bouncing Posey on her lap, and the young girl had her eyes fixed constantly on either the camera or something directly to the left of it, something that Gale assumed was the interviewer.

"And what are your names?" said the off screen voice, addressing the thin, worn, boys on the couch. They looked bad, but Gale couldn't tell if it was because they were having trouble eating since he left, or because he had just grown used them looking bad so long that he had thought it was normal.

"I'm Vick," said the older boy, "and this is Rory and Posy."

"You're a strong young man, and I can see Gale's good looks run in the family." Vick only blushed bright red in reply, but thankfully the interviewer continued. "What are your feelings, seeing your brother on TV."

"We're proud of him too. It's a little scary, but Gale can win. I know he can."

"I think we're all starting to agree with you." The camera faded out on Gale's family, but a tear-stained girl in a very low-cut dress soon replaced them.

"Hello miss, and can you tell the audience who you are?"

"My name's Sage, and I'm Gale's girlfriend." Gale found it difficult to avoid either smashing his fist into the screen, or hitting himself repeatedly on the face.

"His girlfriend, my, that's a very big accomplishment." Sage obtusely ignored the mildly sarcastic tone of the interviewer, and decided to take the complement at face value.

"Why thank you. You know, ever since we first met, there's been this connection between Gale and I. It was love at first sight."

"And what do you think of the other girls Gale's been flirting with?"

"Those whores? Gale wouldn't normally give them the time of day. He's got _much_ higher standards." She shifted herself imperiously, and Gale couldn't help but marvel at the extreme discrepancy between her deliberately disheveled appearance and the obvious pleasure she derived from the attention the interviewer was bestowing on her.

"I see," said the interviewer as she leaned forward, displaying a healthy amount of cleavage. "Don't you worry he might find someone else?"

"Of course not. Gale and I are meant to be, and we both know it. You saw how he really felt for that Glitzerface. The second he comes out of the Games, the first person he'll be asking for is Sage Glenfield, mark my words."

"You seem very confident Gale will win."

"Of course he will, he's Gale Hawthorne."

"Do you have any particular insights into his strategy?"

"Well of course, _I _know, but he made me promise not to say."

"Please, share with just us, just a little hint." Sage twirled a bit of hair absentmindedly.

"Sorry, I keep my promises." The screen faded out again, and Gale had to sigh in relief. Although Sage was irritating, she had done a good job cementing his playboy appearance. And if she wanted to make a fool of herself on television, it wasn't any skin of his nose. High standards weren't really expected of him anyway. The screen dawned on some of his friends from school next.

"So Gale's your friend?"

"Yah. Gale's the best. I've known him since we were about six."

"So do you know what any of his strengths might be in the Games?"

"Besides being an arrogant bastard," questioned Thatch, before receiving a sharp knock on the head from Jay. The interviewer only laughed, so he continued. "We'll as you've already seen, he's incredible with a bow. And he's dead smart. I don't think he ever got good grades, but he's really something else."

"Gale knows people. Knows how they'll act like that thing with Glimmer. He knows just what'll get them rattled. Knows just what to say to get them pissed off if he wants to. I remember he once got Mrs. Hide so mad she wouldn't let him back in her room for a week." Thank you Jay.

"Going back to Glimmer, how does it feel seeing Gale interact with the women of the Capitol?"

"Well, we stopped being jealous of Gale with the ladies years ago," said Jay. Lie thought Gale. "But I must say, Glimmer really was a looker. Hell, even that Mary girl looked like she would've been fun."

"And did you give him any advice before he left?"

"Thatch told him to get a new girlfriend, looks like he was listening," joked Abel.

"Too true. Speaking of which, does Gale _have_ a lady friend worth mentioning?"

"Well there's always Sage. Gale could have her anytime he wanted, but he's never seemed that interested. I've seen Violet hanging around him too."

"Oh come on, Jay, he's not going out with _Violet_."

"We've been hearing a lot about a Katniss Everdeen. Do you have any input?" Gale's friends glanced among themselves.

"I don't _think_ they've ever dated. Katniss doesn't seem like the kind of girl Gale usually goes for. I don't really know her that well."

"And how do they know each other?" There was another exchanged glance, this one much quicker.

"They started hanging out after their dads were killed in the same mine accident. I guess they bonded over it, or something." The interviewer interrogated them a bit more, but eventually retired without an answer as the screen went blank.

Finally Katniss appeared on the screen. She looked beautiful, in a dress like Sage, but the styles were so radically different it seemed irresponsible to call them the same garment. Hers was modest, and a pale blue, the one she had worn on Reaping Day. A new bruise was faintly visible on her arm, and Gale wondered at how she had acquired it. The simple style of her braid suggested she and her mother had been fighting again, although fighting implied a two-sidedness that was usually absent in their conflicts.

"Hello, Katniss Everdeen."

"Hello." The hostile glare she gave the interviewer ruined her modest little girl appearance, but Gale smiled at its familiarity. There was a slight pause, and Gale assumed the interviewer was a little taken aback.

"So how do you know Gale?"

"We became friends after our fathers died," she replied dutifully, with the air of someone who has spent long minutes repeating a phrase.

"And how did that happen?"

"It just did."

"Really?" When Katniss made no move to expand, the interviewer continued on, flustered. "What were your feelings when Gale was Reaped?" Katniss's shell started to come down a little, and a faint furrow formed between her brows.

"I wasn't happy, of course but Gale knows what he's doing. I have to trust him."

"Do you not agree with the way he's doing things?"

"No."

"Then perhaps who he's doing things with."

"No," she replied again, stronger this time.

"I see. Do you have any insights into his strategy?"

"Gale's playing to win. He doesn't care what he has to do, or who he has to hurt to do it, but he's coming home." Gale had a feeling she wasn't talking about the Careers.

"You're sure?"

"He promised." The screen went black again, but this time it did not turn back on. The helpful cartoon returned, and asked what channel he wished to play, but Gale just told it to turn off. He sat in silence for along while.

A bright ding interrupted his musings. Haymitch came out of the elevator, and took in the sight of the shattered wine bottle, as well as Gale's disheveled appearance. "Figured you'd make a lousy drinking buddy. Wash off your face and go down to the basement so they can fix your appearance before the Re-Cap." Gale meekly obeyed. "And get your backbone back. The crowd doesn't want to see a pathetic loser of a Victor." Gale straightened, nodded at Haymitch and boarded the elevator. He remained stoic on the ride down, mindful of the cameras that could be focused on him at any minute. It was unusual to show the Victor much before the official Re-Cap, but exceptions had been made before. It was only now that he realized it was probably for practical reasons rather than a lack of desire.

The stylist's assistants greeted him enthusiastically, and rushed him into a prep-room. It was almost identical to the one he had been in previously, and Gale did his best to alter his mannerisms to what they had been before. If there were any discrepancies, they didn't notice or care.

"Oh, I can't believe-"

"And my favorite part-"

"Most definitely, but when-"

They cut each other off, and spoke over one another. None cared particularly about what the others had to say, but each was anxious to be heard. Gale was able to satisfy them with the occasional nod, or smile, but he forced himself to listen to as much of their conversation as possible.

"I think Glimmer's was _my_ favorite," said Aurelius confidently.

"Oh no," countered Gaia "Rue's was much more dramatic."

"Yes, but what about Larch? I'm sorry Gale, but the way the others drew his death out was truly fantastic."

"It's all right. I wasn't aiming for a show as much in my kills. Although I think I have to say the fight with Thresh was definitely the most taxing."

"It was unbelievable. I almost fainted when the cannon went off. They were showing you're status the entire time, but I could hardly believe you had won. And to think I was the one who styled your hair! You might not have gotten enough sponsors for the food without it, and then where would you be!" Aurelis was arrogant, but he made a small point. And his glee at his own usefulness was informative.

"I don't know what I would have done without all of your help. It made such a difference in the arena knowing that all my fans were out there cheering me on." Gale was unable to find a suitable innuendo, and so settled for a simple wink. The reactions of the trio said it was good enough.

"Well I _did_ do your nails."

"Not to mention the way I washed your hair."

"Or the way I did all the coal dust for your interview." Gale relaxed for the next few minutes as they argued over who had contributed the most to his victory. They rubbed a curious gold powder all over his body. It sparkled and shown, and he seemed to be glowing as he reflected the light of the room. Portia arrived and interrupted her squabbling assistants before they had reached a consensus on who had aided him most. She had changed her appearance dramatically from the last time he had seen her, and her hair was dyed a pastel pink, like clouds during sunset. Gold accents completed the look, and Gale knew it had to be intentional. She wore a light blue dress, varying in shade from almost pure white-gold to the tranquil color of a bright summer day. Her skin had been lightened perceptibly as well.

"You're looking rather sunny, all things considered."

"I thought it might cheer your spirits. You have won after all." Gale smiled as radiantly as he could manage.

"Whatever would give you the impression that I am anything but thrilled?" Portia smiled in return.

"Perfect. Now did Haymitch tell you your angle for the Re-Cap?"

"No," said Gale, wary of bugs, "just told me to be my naturally charming self." Portia wasn't stupid and caught the hint immediately.

"Oh, of course. It still takes some getting used to the idea of having a tribute from twelve who hasn't been acting out of their mind the entire time."

"Well, I know a few ways of getting you to forget things." Gale winced internally as Portia's face closed off perceptibly.

"That won't be necessary. At any rate, here is your costume," she added shortly. She offered a set of metal plates. Each was designed to appear like sturdy stone while revealing as much of his body as possible. He looked like some kind of sun-warrior, the black of his hair and the armor standing out harshly against the gold body paint. Lastly she handed him a black cape. At least, it was black on the outside. The inside shimmered like fire.

"It doesn't correlate with coal as much as I had hoped, but you didn't give us much time to plan anything out. I don't think the audience will mind at any rate." Gale flexed in front of the mirrors. "Especially if you continue to do that," she added, an edge to her voice.

"Wasn't really thinking ahead, if you know what I mean." He let off another, quite literally dazzling smile, wishing there was a way to stop distancing himself from her. She didn't seem like such a bad person, and her irritation at his advances actually made him like her more. It proved she wasn't a total bimbo or completely obsessed with the idea of the Games.

"Just get out the door, Gale. They'll be needing you in a few minutes." She held open the door for him dismissively, and he took the hint. The door led to another blank hallway, much like the one he had greeted Haymitch and Effie in. Lights lit the area from below, casting weird shadows. The white paint glowed a faint gold as he walked by, influenced by his sparkling paint. He felt unbelievably stupid, dressed up like a sparkling fairy-warrior, but there was nothing to be done. The costume fit regrettably well with the angle he was attempting. He would have to work with it. At the end of the hall, a brown-haired avox greeted him soundlessly and gestured to a pad, much like the one that had launched him into the Games. The politely blank smile did nothing to assuage his instinctual fear of the scene, but Gale stepped onto the platform anyway.

A glass wall rose up from the floor immediately. But the time he had enough presence of mind to desire to flee, it had already reached his thighs and was still climbing. A faint hiss reached him as the pane of glass locked shut, and Gale felt instantly more peaceful. The air had a very faint taste to it, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had enough semblance of thought to register that he had been drugged, but the happy part of his brain saw no problem with it. "Little too much. I can't think straight," he said as the wall started tilting. His awareness returned slightly.

"Our apologies, we forgot to re-calculate for the weight you lost during the arena." The reassuring voice appeared out of nowhere, and Gale was faintly amused at the reason for the apology. It wasn't about drugging him, but rather because they had messed up with it.

"No problem. Just don't want to go stumbling around stage." Gale giggled a bit, and the quality of the air changed again.

"It seems you have an unusually strong reaction. If it's alright with you, we'll just give you minimum dosage." Gale nodded dumbly, wondering when he had agreed to be drugged in the first place. The voice didn't speak again, and Gale felt sad it had abandoned him. To his relief, it cracked on again, but wasn't talking to him. Someone had accidentally hit the speaker.

"-give him any more. He'll look like an idiot on stage. Give him some of the Abvenio."

"But President Snow said-"

"He'll just have to deal with it. We'll take a bigger fall if he does something stupid."

"You left the mic on," said Gale helpfully.

"See what I mean," said the first voice quietly. "Sorry Gale, we'll fix it in a second." Another hiss sounded, and Gale's sanity returned, along with his irritation. He did his best to hide that, however.

"Much better. Don't worry; I'm sure I'll be fine. I've never had a problem with performance anxiety." Gale hoped the gold paint had covered most of his blush as the man on the other end of the line coughed.

"Yes, well-"

"When can I go up, any way?"

"Five minutes. It's almost nine."

"Sounds good." The voice went silent again, but this time Gale was in no hurry to talk with them again. He collected himself in the little time he had left. Adrenaline was flowing through his veins once again, albeit to a much lesser degree than it had the last time he was on a launch pad. He didn't know if he was more worried about how the audience would see him, keeping face while he watched himself brutally slaughter the other tributes, or even just worried about facing what he had done. He mentally slapped himself. Haymitch was right; things were still dangerous. He couldn't afford to start feeling guilty again. Another breakdown would be disastrous.

There was no warning as the disc below him started to rise soundlessly. He wouldn't have even noticed it if not for the slight downward pressure and the walls around him shifting. The ceiling above him split, and he rose out into the night air and the flash of cameras. The crowd roared, and he was blinded as he looked out into the roaring mass. It didn't stop him from giving a casual wave and smirk. The noise increased by a few decibels, and Gale gave a laugh. Lights swung to face him, and he glanced around. Caesar Flickerman stood on the other side of the stage, crown in hand. Gale strode over.

"We were all worried for a bit we wouldn't have someone to give a crown to." Even at such close proximity, Gale wouldn't have been able to hear him over the noise if not for his voice being amplified hundreds of times.

"Aww Caesar, I'm wounded!"

"Yes, that was the problem!" Gale laughed along with the crowd. "But we'll see more on that in a little bit. First." Gale knelt, as he had seen dozens of others do before him. Caesar Flickerman placed the ornate crown on his head, and grasped his hand to pull it up. He held his hand above his head in triumph, a confident smirk on his face. Gale winked at the crowd before turning back to Caesar, who gestured at a throne for him to sit on as he watched the Games. It was plush. No expense had been spared, at least where the cameras could see. Caesar turned to face the crowd, which was still screaming like mad.

"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for, a Re-Cap of the highlights of the 74th Annual Hunger Games!" The crowd was ecstatic. Gale's seat faced them, and he could gaze at the immense screens opposite him. The crowd itself looked to a screen behind his back so they could watch both him and the drama at the same time. Gale gave a final wave, and settled in to watch the movie.

There was a hush as the screens darkened, then a remix of the anthem played, and a seal baring the number 74 flashed across the screen with lights and trumpets. They flashed through the Reapings, pausing on the Careers, as well as Cobalt's, Vix's, the boy from ten's, and both reapings from eleven and twelve. It set the stage for the major contenders. Gale's Reaping was shown practically in full. Generally, the editors were in a rush trying to cram all the kills and brilliant moments from over two weeks into three hours, but they were given much more freedom, as there was only a fraction of the footage.

They glossed over the opening ceremonies, pausing lovingly on Gale's face. His elevator interactions with Glimmer, were melded together and shown, and the party on the roof gained an entire fifteen minutes. As far as Gale could tell, they were accentuating his friendly-charismatic side, likely to make his betrayal all the more potent. He noticed Glimmer was also gaining a good deal of the spotlight, which made him uncomfortable. From the way the camera had edited, it looked as though they were actually in love. Most of the footage was already familiar to Gale, but one scene appeared that the audience had clearly never witnessed before. Excited mummers broke out, as Glimmer appeared on the roof, still in her interview dress. One of her mentors was with her. The quality of the video had decreased, and Gale suspected the footage had been taken from a random camera on the roof.

"What the hell are you doing up here Glimmer? I told you not to leave the room. Go back downstairs and get some rest. The Games start tomorrow." The mentor was pissed, and Gale wondered why they were painting her in such an unflattering view.

"I was just-" Glimmer looked embarrassed, but was still holding her own.

"What," her mentor asked cruelly, "waiting to see if Gale would show up?" Silence answered her question. "Listen to me Glimmer." The woman grabbed both her arms and forced Glimmer to turn. "You are going to have to kill Gale. Understand that." Gale tried to keep his face stoic.

"I know, but what's wrong with a little fun?" Glimmer was irritated too.

"I don't trust that boy, and neither should you. Remember what you have to do."

"I'm the one going into the arena, I can decide for myself who to trust." Glimmer stormed off into the elevator, and her mentor looked to the ground. No further explanation was given as the next scene opened. The tributes rose from the ground, each face shown with equal intensity. Gale could practically see himself thinking, and was a little shocked at how collected he looked. The gong sounded, and the tributes all moved. The entire scene was shown, with the cameras panning in, and showing each death in slow motion. Gale realized when it was his turn to kill, the cameras focused not on the person he was slaughtering, but rather on his own face. There wasn't a hint of hesitation or remorse, only a calculating certainty. He looked fully like the killer he was.

Rivvet and the girl from seven's deaths were shown in detail, with loud music blasting in the background. It made the silence as April was brought before him infinitely more conspicuous. The Careers' surreptitiously exchanged glances were caught in full as he approached her. Gale was amazed at how playful his face had looked despite the turmoil underneath, but his whispered "sorry," echoed through the quiet area. The tender moment immediately passed as the crowd laughed boisterously along to Gale's bad joke. He was sure to let one out himself, as if smiling at the memory. Larch's torture and death were played in full as well, with the camera occasionally shooting glances of himself and Glimmer. He was surprised to see her face betraying small twinges of uncertainly, while his own was blankly disinterested. He was beginning to see which direction the movie was going in, and while he didn't quite appreciate it, it would help him convincing the Capitol of his Careerishness.

The television showed Vix stealing their supplies and running, as well as Gale's quick smile of appreciation at the intelligence. The girl from eight's death came next, as well as Gale's hasty mercy blow, which was glazed over. Then came a string of interactions between himself and the other Careers. They joked and laughed together. Multiple scenes were shown of the girls, mostly Glimmer, following him with their eyes. It was strange to see all the hidden things that had been going on around him in the arena. There was also an embarrassing amount of footage of him and Glimmer, but fortunately displaying all of it would have taken too much time. A few conversations from when the others were out hunting were also shown, most of them about Gale.

Another was shown from where he was sleeping in the background as the girls poked fun at each other about him. Gale smiled, as if enjoying it. A part of him wished they hadn't decided to showcase him as much as possible, but the relatively lighthearted nature of the first two thirds of the film was a pleasant surprise.

The encounter with the wolves, and even his terror in the sandpit were portrayed with relative affection and good humor. At least, the crowd had laughed at some of his panicked swearing, and he assumed it was supposed to be funny. The cameras highlighted a moment where Cato was practically begging Clove soundlessly to give up on him, but to his mixed gratitude and shame she shook her head vigorously, and gave Cato an irritated look. Sighs of relief were heard everywhere as Gale emerged unscathed from the pit, and Gale wondered for a moment if some of them were actually stupid enough to have forgotten the ending. It wouldn't have surprised him.

The happy, relatively innocent atmosphere continued as Gale saw himself stop for what appeared to be snack break. He listened as the commentators anxiously watched as he collected berries from a cluster of bushes, some poisonous, some benign. They announcers counted it as a great bit of luck that he hadn't ingested any poisonous berries, but rather had saved them in a bag for later with some of the non-toxic variety. The tone of the Games was still very up beat, and the Careers joked with one another frequently. When Gale received the bird as a gift from sponsors, no one thought anything of it. The commentators were relaxed, and only a few were paying an attention. It was a full-time job, and they had to fill the hours of nothingness with idle chatter and predictions. It was only once the Careers had begun eating that they started noticing something was happening.

Little alarms started going off, as the Careers bodies reacted before their minds had realized what was wrong. The multitude of numbers indicating each tribute's health were flashing and changing rapidly. Only his and Glimmers remained stable, and the commentators were speaking a mile a minute, trying to figure out what had happened. One brilliant soul realized they were all being poisoned, and pandemonium kicked in. It was still paradise in the arena, but half a dozen announcers flocked to the scene and began talking all at once. The movie then shifted its focus entirely to the tributes, cutting out any of the commentators chatter as Gale began gagging. He personally thought he didn't have the acting down to perfection, but the confusion on the Careers faces proved otherwise. All angles of their destruction were covered, and Gale witnessed them succumb to the poison in slow motion, again and again. The camera flicked repeatedly to Glimmer's horrified reaction, and he was able to see for the first time the hope that snuck across her face as he rose from the dead.

"Looks like you don't like berries." The hope disappeared, replaced by confusion and fear as she shook her head wildly. Gale watched himself advance, his face contorted by rage. Glimmer tried futily to deny what was in front of her own eyes, backtracking. Gale laughed in false amusement as his doppelganger gave a spirited speech on the evils of the Careers. The crowd looked slightly relieved, albeit confused. He was able to see in minute detail as her expression varied from betrayed to baffled, always remaining hurt. She looked startlingly like the very young children he had seen starving in the Seam, unable to comprehend why they were so hungry. He shook the resemblance out of his mind, and continued smiling, as if proud of his twisted behavior.

Gale's façade almost fell as he watched her beg desperately at his feet. But he had remained stoic then, and he would do so again. Instead he rolled his eyes dismissively as he watched his uncaring visage look down on her as she died. Glimmer was the image of what happened in the Games if a tribute wasn't willing to put everything into it. She was the bad Career, who had gotten what was coming for her, and Gale suspected hers wouldn't be the last criticized strategy.

The film took a darker turn. The theme music was solitary and violent. Summer had turned to winter, and Gale never once caught his face showing any sign of regret. They capitalized on his new side, showing him remorseless and brutal, but also intelligent. They cheered as he murdered Vix, whose story had been largely ignored, and winced in sympathy as he was blown back by the explosion. Both tributes were lightly chastised for not thinking far enough ahead. Gale watched himself rebuild and set out to destroy the little girl.

The movie progressed rapidly from there. He saw a frightened Rue run from a wall of flame toward the area he had laid his traps. He saw for the first time as Thresh stumbled upon the boy from ten and easily overcame him. Easily, but not willingly. Thresh's clear look of regret was shown in detail, as well as the caring manner he had laid down the body. His fight with the wolves was played quickly, but with chilling music. Then Rue, who had thus far not even attempted to hurt the other tributes, fell prey to his trap. He watched from his seat as she spent long minutes observing the contraption before going closer for a better view. Her eyes gleamed in horror as she fell with a soft scream. In another panel, Gale's eyes twitched toward a sudden noise and he set off at breakneck pace.

Gale looked like a god of death appearing out of the shadows to claim his next victim. He moved without the standard aggressiveness, but instead with unstoppable precision. He wasn't particularly fond of what he was doing, but did it anyway. He allowed her a few moments to herself, and Gale once again tuned her out, promising to watch the scene over later, when there weren't so many eyes on him. He watched in relief as the editors had cut the scene so it looked like Rue had been preparing to beg for life rather than death. It wouldn't do to appear too lenient, although his kill record spoke mostly for itself.

The film lightened momentarily, as he regained his joking manner to play a quick drinking game before proceeding to the grand finale. Limping, covered in dirt, and with trails of blood leaking from various cuts, he didn't look good. The cameras were clearly trying not to make him look desperate, but even they couldn't edit the slightly unhinged light from his eyes. He would have to watch the rest of the videos later, if he could, to see how bad he really was.

Luckily, he had still behaved well in response to the little challenge they had given him. He was relieved to see none of his irritation had escaped into his appearance. It was evident to him now that the Gamemakers had just wanted one more test to ensure he wouldn't be an insane Victor, unable to play their twisted little games. Had he failed, he shuddered to realize, he likely wouldn't have been allowed to win, and Thresh would be sitting in his very seat. His macabre side was quick to notice that the throne had even been designed with varying colors, ready to be used by a Victor from any possible district.

Gale watched as Thresh approached quickly from the plains chased by one of the mutant dogs. It disappeared when he reached the Cornucopia. A small package floated down from the sky, and Gale leaned forward with curiosity. It contained a mirror, and Gale laughed in semi-hysteric realization as Thresh disappeared into the golden horn. The night vision cameras watched as he crouched in the darkness, the mirror placed such that he would be able to see anyone enter the rim of the Cornucopia. It was no wonder Thresh had gotten the jump on him.

He stealthily approached the dark cave, only to get the ever-loving shit beat out of him. It was clear who the better hand-to-hand combatant was, and Gale only won by virtue of dumb luck. The vitals of both tributes were displayed side by side, and he watched as both stuttered and failed. Gale saw as hope left his eyes and he collapsed unconscious, but only now realized Thresh himself had done so seconds before. The commentators once again yammered in confusion as it was unclear if the Victor would remain alive long enough to claim his prize. After a short montage involving the doctors resuscitating him, played to triumphant music, the screen played the anthem and displayed the shield once again.

The applause was deafening, and Gale stood up and took a bow without prompt. He would remain a good little lap dog so long as it kept his family out of harms way. He shook Caesar Flickerman's hand once more, added a quick "see you for the interview," and was swept offstage.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for the long delay, and for not answering anyone's reviews. I promise to do better next time. I just frankly didn't have the time, and thought you would rather have the chapter sooner. Thanks for reading, and REVIEW!<strong>


	21. Frangitor ipsa suis Roma superba bonis

**Sorry again for the failure review response, I promise I'll do better this time. Hopefully the length of this chapter will make up for my other failures. The quote means "Proud Rome herself is broken by her own wealth."  
><strong>

**C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C** 2 2 2 2** C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 **C C C C C C C C C C  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1** C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 **C** **  
>C C<strong> 1 1 1 **C C C C C C** 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2** C  
>C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C C <strong>

* * *

><p><strong>21. <strong>**Frangitor ipsa suis Roma superba bonis**

Gale stumbled into the wings, startled by the sudden drop visual and auditory stimuli. He couldn't see much, but his avox escort had disappeared from beside him. Instead a man filled his vision. There was no need for introductions; Gale had seen him on TV since before he could remember. Gale took the man's hand.

"President Snow, pleasure to finally meet you." A small part of Gale glanced hopefully around for guards, before realizing that even if he ignored the consequences and attacked Snow, peacekeepers would have him subdued before he could do any real damage.

"Gale Hawthorne. I was wondering if I could have a word with you." The man gestured to a door off to the side, and an unpleasant sent reached Gale, one he couldn't recognize.

"Of course, Mr. President. Whatever you need." Gale had a sinking suspicion about the subject matter of their visit, but followed unafraid. A confident smile still graced his face from his time before the cameras, and he let it stay. Snow ushered him into a small, plain, white room, with two pristine chairs settled around a table. An avox stood unobtrusively in one of the corners. Gale sat, and Snow placed himself opposite.

"Well first, I'd love to congratulate you on your victory. And several records to boot!" Gale decided to take Snow's words at face value.

"Thank you. It wasn't without a good deal of effort."

"And the berries, ingenious." Snow held a predatory smile, which Gale ignored in his reply.

"It wouldn't have been possible if not for my wonderful fans." And the Gamemaker's help, he added internally. Snow nodded, as if in response to the nonverbal message.

"I think you'll find most things here are difficult to accomplish without help." Snow paused. "I want to be frank with you, Gale. I was never much good at word games." Gale gave a small smile in sardonic amusement. "I think we can assist each other a good deal. Certain advisors of mine believe there should be consequences for your actions in the arena, but I think differently. Words spoken in passion should not be believed wholeheartedly, and there are certain favors you can help us with. I'm your friend here, Gale, but I don't like being taken for a fool." Gale crafted his response carefully.

"I think a few things about my," Gale paused, "hasty comments will be explained in the interview. If there is anything else I can assist you with however?" Gale trailed off, and Snow gave a vulpine smile.

"I had hoped your mentor's stubbornness hadn't rubbed off on you. All I wish is for you to become acquainted with several of my friends. I think you'll find them fascinating people."

"I'm sure I will," answered Gale heavily.

"Splendid. I am glad we are on the same page." Snow rose, and gave Gale's arm another shake. "Pleasure meeting you." Snow started for the door before stopping and turning back. "Out of curiosity, how did you know?"

"Guesses. They were confirmed tonight." Snow nodded.

"Good to see it's not become common knowledge." The threat to insure it stayed that way was implied. "And the first friend you should meet is Thymoetes. He'll introduce himself, I'm sure." Snow exited, and Gale followed, uncertain of his next destination. Portia greeted him from the sidelines and dragged him down a long corridor into a changing room. Gale absentmindedly hit on her, wary of cameras, but she ignored him.

"I wanted to change your outfit slightly before the party. It wouldn't due for you to be seen twice in the same clothes, people would think I was neglecting my duty." Gale didn't respond, only put on the fiery read shirt and black pants that she offered. The shirt was studded with jewels in much the same way April's interview dress had been, and the pants had a faint dusting of shimmer. They left the gold body-paint on, although Portia quickly sprayed him down in a foul smelling liquid to insure it stayed.

"There," she said after styling his hair slightly differently and stepping back. "I wasn't given much warning, but hopefully they'll appreciate that we kept on the same theme." She ran her eyes over Gale once again. "Yes, it'll do. Finnick Odair said he wanted to talk with you, he's in the other room." Portia gestured at a small door almost flush with the wall that Gale hadn't noticed. He knocked politely, and a vaguely familiar stylist greeted him. The man's hair was dyed turquoise and black, and his skin had been bleached.

"Come in, Finnick's been waiting for you." Finnick was lounging on a chair, mostly naked as several assistants finished applying a set of small reflective blue disks all over his body. When he sat up, they rippled and shimmered in the light and Gale realized they were meant to resemble scales.

"Ah, Gale. I was wondering when you'd be done." One assistant was still finishing up his left arm, but Finnick paid him no mind. "Sorry I wasn't able to see the live highlight reel, they've been up to this for a few hours. I did watch on TV." Finnick gestured to a large television occupying a corner. Gale remembered his manners.

"I'm very sorry about Pearl and Rivvet." Finnick waved him aside.

"You were in it to win. Anyone who doesn't understand that is a fool. Pity, they weren't smart enough to realize the danger." Gale nodded, but didn't feel as though things were fully settled between the two of them. He was acutely aware of the stylist's presence. Finnick noticed as well.

"That'll be enough, Veracity." A young cat-faced woman stood back.

"Of course Finnick." Her misshapen face distorted and the soft fur moved unexpectedly with her lips. The stylists packed up rapidly and left. Gale marveled at how well Finnick had them under control, but realized it was probably just something that came with time. Finnick looked Gale up and down, examining both his appearance and something deeper. He shifted uncomfortably, but at last Finnick nodded as if in approval.

"Your stylist did a wonderful job."

"I'll be sure to pass on the praise. I was wondering what you wished to discuss with me." Gale was tired of taking on the passive role in conversations.

"I'm assuming Snow spoke with you."

"Yes." Finnick gave him a short look.

"Then there's not much more for us to discuss. I'm afraid I don't have any miraculous advice for you." Gale snorted.

"What advice is there to give? Need anything else or do you want to get this over with." Finnick rose from his chair and gestured for the door.

"After you." They were led in silence to a car. Gale smirked at everyone in sight, keeping his mind distant. If he could be someone else, it wouldn't be so hard. The best he could hope was that this Thymoetes wasn't as horrible as his name sounded.

A horse drawn carriage greeted them to carry them to their next destination. It was jet black with gold accents. The horses too were a deep midnight color, and Gale wondered absentmindedly who looked after them. The task didn't have the same air of glamour he had always associated with everything capitol. Then again, the avoxes had to have other jobs then serving disgruntled tributes.

The seats inside the carriage were leather, and a strange purple light illuminated the interior. It highlighted odd bits of Finnick's scales and his jewels. The ride to the party was uncomfortable at best. Gale had no idea where he stood with Finnick, and it made him uneasy. Finnick had been the epitome of Career, and yet was now disillusioned at least in regards to the Capitol. Not to mention that he himself was cast in the same role until further notice. Finnick broke the silence.

"Is there anyone you want me to introduce you to?"

"Thymoetes." Finnick nodded.

"I thought as much. Very interesting man. I'd watch what you say around him, it'll be all over the Capitol in an hour."

"I don't mind being an object of conversation."

"Then you'll fit in very well." Finnick became strangely closed off after their short exchange. It was odd, as he behaved quite differently from every time Gale had seen him on camera. Even when he was fourteen he radiated confidence, no one could claim it was undeserved. He had always considered Finnick to be a plaything of the Capitol. Nothing but a pawn and a lapdog, but now, as his criticisms were confirmed to a higher degree then he had thought possible, he felt only pity. Was it possible to feel pity for someone in his own position? Looking at Finnick, Gale decided it was.

The carriage jerked to a halt, and the door beside Finnick was opened. His demeanor had changed entirely, as had Gale's, and he exited, laughing as if in response to a witty comment. Gale followed with a smile, and was partially blinded for the second time that night by the flash of cameras. He gave a wave of acknowledgement as the crowd pressed as close to him as possible, held back only by a fragile rope. A red carpet paved the way to a mansion, more castle than house. It looked like one of the elaborately decorated cakes he had never been wealthy enough to buy, topped with colored frosting and sheets of metal. The sound emanating from the building caused the very ground to shake, and he wondered absentmindedly how the delicate glass windows and fixtures were kept from shattering. He ascended the ornate stair, Finnick at his side.

The entrance room was full to bursting, and the crowd swayed back and forth vigorously. Several dancers were in varying states of undress, and Gale feared they would only reveal themselves more as time progressed. Finnick pulled him into the mass of gyrating forms, and shouted into his ear.

"Dance with whomever you like, but don't do anything else. I'll come get you when it's time to meet the host." Gale was then left to fend for himself against the ravenous creatures before him as Finnick was swept away. Indistinguishable bodies pressed against him, and Gale responded with as much enthusiasm as possible. He mimicked their disjointed movements to the best of his ability, but dancing had never been high on his list of skills to learn. The frenzied people around him didn't mind however, as they became increasingly desperate to cling closer to him. At one moment he was sandwiched between a peacock look-alike and a reptilian man, and the next they were halfway across the room and several others had taken their place.

Eyes lit up as they recognized the Victor in their midst, although Gale wondered how much it mattered to people who had probably seen dozens in their lifetime. Evidently quite a bit, as a small scuffle broke out between two young ladies each trying to win a kiss. Their frail blows and pathetic attempts to injure one another brought a genuine smile to Gale's face and he laughed, blowing them each a kiss. Their fighting ceased as they reached up to catch it, and two strong gentlemen appeared out of nowhere to escort them away. The men were elegantly dressed and handsome, by Capitol standards, but there was no mistaking them for guests.

Gale danced, or rather writhed, with the crowd for several hours, only stopping a few time to drink some punch. It went to his head rather quickly, and Gale made a note to remember not to eat or drink anything at the other parties he would be attending. He felt a flash of irritation at Finnick for not having warned him, but was still sober enough to realize antagonizing his only ally within a several mile radius would bring nothing but trouble. A quick glance showed it was encroaching on three, but the party showed no signs of stopping. Suddenly the crowd thickened, and Finnick appeared at his side, a giggling middle-aged woman in tow. His arm was hooked casually around her, and she looked like she was having the time of her life.

"Come on, I've someone I want you to meet!" Finnick practically dragged him up a set of stairs to another crowded room. Gale felt rather foolish, but not nearly as silly as Finnick looked, hanging on to every word of an idiotic girl who couldn't be heard over the pulsating music. He suddenly became conscious that his shirt had been entirely unbuttoned at some point during the festivities, but he made no move to close it. The crowd parted slightly before them, but pressed closer on either side and from behind. Gale was caught in a whirlpool of pushing bodies. They ascended a gold staircase, leading to another packed room. Gale couldn't see more then a few feet ahead, so it came as a surprise when the crowd opened slightly, and he came face to face with a man.

There was no mistaking him for anyone but their host. While the guests had donned glitter and makeup, he was draped in jewels and iridescent fabrics that changed color as he moved. Blue fire snaked its way around his torso and into his hair, paying homage to Gale's fiery debut without the same vulgar ineptitude many of the other guests had displayed. It was garish and flamboyant, but expensively so. The man looked Gale up and down scandalously, and extended his hand with a grin.

"Thymoetes."

"Gale Hawthorne." Gale grasped the man's hand firmly, noting with faint distaste the satiny texture.

"I thought the two of you would want to get acquainted." The crowd surrounding them tittered, although they missed part of the joke. Finnick had said something with a smile, and it was enough.

"Yes, quite." The man ran his eyes over Gale again, and Gale returned the favor confidently.

"I must say, your much different then how Finnick described."

"And what did Finnick say?

"Only that you were powerful and knew how to throw a party. I see now he should have warned me about your radiant appearance."

"Didn't want to spoil the surprise," added Finnick smoothly. The crowd watched as they bantered back and forth. Finnick's toy interjected occasionally, basking in her small moment of fame, but otherwise conversation was kept strictly between the three of them. Gale's flirtations and innuendos swelled as the night progressed, and it wasn't long before Thymoetes called him out.

"Gale, if you are even considering half the things you've promised me tonight, I will be a very happy man."

"Are you implying I would lie?" Gale feigned offence, and Thymoetes hastened to comfort him.

"Of course not, my good friend. However now would be a fine time to defend your honor once and for all." The challenge was there, and Gale had never been one to back down.

"I could never stand for such a slight. Come, let's go prove I'm no tease." Thymoetes dragged him through the crowd, which parted with many catcalls. He belatedly wished he had gotten drunker when dancing, but in his experience regrets begot nothing but further miseries, and he already had enough of those. So instead Gale steeled himself, took a steadying breath, and plunged after Thymoetes, intent on blocking the next few hours, and indeed all similar occurrences from his mind forever.

Cameras swayed overhead as the sounds of the party stormed out of the house. The crowd danced on. Caught up in both their individualistic dramas and the sway of the herd, they continued, ignorant of the dark shadows underneath the grand chandeliers in their fairytale castle. Glass and floating lights bathed their fevered movements in a calming glow, offset by the harsh blasts of strobe lights, which froze and manipulated the crowd at regular intervals. Each momentary glimpse of clarity only obscured reality more as they thrashed in time to the music, following the flow of the party and the city itself.

False stars were visible to any romantics who glanced upward, their inspirations blocked out by more important lights. There was nothing beyond the city limits, not to its inhabitants. Even the districts themselves were naught but flawed imitations of a far grander design. But thoughts of outside were insignificant compared to the immediate concerns of the city's childish citizens, and the cynical few were far in between. Only the city's most veteran worriers failed to put aide their task for one day of fun.

* * *

><p>Gale stole from his client's room scant few hours after entering, but the sun was already bathing the quiet city in morning light. The garish neon fixtures were dull and bland in the monotone morning air, and the house was quiet apart from the scattered snores of stupefied partygoers. The warm air left no lingering chill on the skin beneath his tattered shirt, but Gale snagged a tossed-aside jacket to shelter himself from something intangible. His shoes had been misplaced sometime in the evening, and he wandered back and forth through the rooms to avoid puddles of indiscernible fluids. The bright chiming of a clock somewhere in the house made Gale freeze, but he continued onward unable to shake the feeling of illicitness from his actions. He started again when an avox stepped out of the background décor and gestured to him. Gale followed, perplexed.<p>

The avox lead him through a small door into an open-aired courtyard, complete with laughing fountain and bushes tall enough to conceal frolicking lovers. Gale had no interest in examining their contents. They passed back into the relative shade of the house, and through several corridors lined with closed doors, presumably hiding the mansion's wealthier patrons. A few avoxes could now be seen cleaning the night's enjoyments from the hardwood floors, and otherwise erasing the inhabitants' polluting touches. They finally stopped before an unremarkable section of wall. It started at their presence before shying away and fading into the shadow of the corridor behind it. A line of faintly blue lights dictated his path, and Gale gave a faint nod to his guide before following their instructions.

A poufy carpet rid Gale's feet of the stains he had acquired when first shrugging off his sleepiness in search of an escape. He could barely contain himself from sprinting toward his goal, now that his path was so clearly laid out before him. Even the faint clang as the avox blocked his only alternate route did little to faze him. Going back had never been a possibility, not since he had gently closed the door to Thymoetes's room and stepped out into one of the long corridors of the house. His destination took only minutes at his almost-run pace, and the curving path of the tunnel meant the true distance between his start and finish could be minimal at most. There was no door at this end; rather, it opened suddenly into a small garage, complete with bloody car and patient driver. The man, not an avox but apparently as loquacious as one, opened the passenger door and Gale slid inside.

The interior was the same tone of scarlet as the exterior, and the orange accents made Gael feel as though he had entered the inferno. He distractedly gazed out the windows as the vehicle set off. The near-black glass strained to reflect Gale's face back at him, but he looked resolutely past to the empty streets and sleepy houses. He had not kept careful track of their journey to the party, but Gale noted with distant concern that they weren't headed the proper direction. His fingers tapped out a distracted beat on the glass, but settled as the car slowed to a stop before a familiar face.

"Morning, Gale. Nice night?"

"Of course, what else would you expect?"

"Nothing, of course. First few times were defiantly the most memorable. Eventually they start blurring together."

"Pity. How was your date?"

Finnick brushed Gale's query away with a quick flick. "Average at best. Nothing I haven't seen before." They remained silent the rest of the way to the Tribute center, where a flustered Effie dragged Gale out of the car.

"Finally! We were worried we wouldn't have enough time." Gale let himself be pulled into the elevator and down to the dressing room, barely pausing to wave a quick goodbye to an amused Finnick. Effie then marched him into the changing room, heels clicking like drums counting down the time before an execution as Gale realized he would probably spend the entire day getting ready. "How hung over are you? Never mind, take two of these, and one of these you'll feel better."

"I'm not-"

"We don't have time for this. One's a sleeping pill, hurry up and take it." While Gale wasn't over-anxious to take mysterious drugs, Effie's stern gaze brokered no dissent. The moment he swallowed the small pills, the world began to shift and faint, panicked, voices were the last sound he heard.

* * *

><p>Bright lights greeted him as he woke, and Gale became instantaneously aware of multiple hands maneuvering his unconscious body. Thankfully for those around him, his limbs were not immediately capable of obeying his sluggish mind's commands to tear the offending digits forcefully from his person.<p>

"Look he's waking up."

"Perfect, I was getting worried we'd have to use the Lumen." Gale blinked blearily, as the faces around him slowly focused.

"Hi Gale," giggled Gaia. "Have a fun night?" Gale did not want to deal with them, but it had been a long time since his desires were the deciding factor in his actions. He gave an innocent smile.

"Yes, it was lovely. Finnick took me to a party."

"Don't try that on us, Gale, we saw the footage."

"Footage?" Gale's breath caught in his throat, and he was unable to contain his concern.

"During the party. Unfortunately none of the camera crews could get upstairs," responded Troilus, looking like Gale had taken the last bit of a particularly delicious delicacy.

"Too bad?"

"I know! Horrible shame, guess we'll have to wait for next time, eh Troilus?" Aurelis nudged his friend good naturedly. "There will be a next time won't there?" The utter anxiety in the man's face aided Gale in keeping his laughter carefree rather than hysterical.

"There will be if I have anything to say about it." They tittered along with him, and renewed their task. They were attaching small iridescent gems to his body, like a combination between April's dress and Finnick's scales. The extent to which his body had been covered made Gale selfishly glad he had been unconscious during most of the process. "What time is it?"

"Seven, the interview starts at eight thirty." Gale's stomach then decided to announce its protest over the long period of disuse. "Someone get him some food before we do his makeup." An avox glided seamlessly into the room, and Gale ate hastily while the trio flitted around him finishing the patterns of gems, and chattering about momentous occurrences in their lives. Gale sat bored once he finished his rapid meal, as they enthusiastically applied the finishing touches on his body before stepping back.

"Looks perfect."

"The way the light glistens."

"I wish we didn't have to cover any of it up." Thankfully, Portia arrived and interceded on his behalf before Gale was forced to disagree with Troilus.

"We haven't shown him nude at any other stage in the proceedings, so we won't start now. It simply wouldn't due to have his _interview_ outfit upstage the one he used for the Re-Cap. Besides, we have to give them _something_ to work for." Portia gave conciliatory wink to her assistants before they were ushered out the room with a few words. Portia turned back to Gale and began speaking before the door had even closed behind them. "I'll warn you now, it'll happen eventually, but I thought we could wait a year on it all things considered."

"Thank you," Gale replied earnestly, as she handed him a few scraps of red material meant to resemble flames.

"Haymitch said he wanted to talk with you before the interview, so I'll let you have some time together." Portia exited as quickly as she had entered, but Gale was not left alone long before a fidgeting Haymitch burst through the door.

"Nice job at the party. Half believed you were actually enjoying yourself."

"I try."

"Keep that attitude up during the interview. Did you think of a good reason for your little outburst?"

"I'm just going to tell them the truth. Honestly, Haymitch what are you worried about?"

"The room isn't bugged. I had Beetee fix it."

"Oh." Gale relaxed a little, before glancing at the clock. "Five minutes, any advice?"

"Just stick with the act. If he mentions Thymoetes complement him, but don't seem too attached. He'll probably ask you about the girls back home, and you'll have to come up with a satisfactory response. Don't let them know who you care about."

"I've got a plan." Haymitch gave him a hard look.

"Don't try anything stupid. You're out of their reach, but the rest of your family's fair game. How many younger siblings do you have? How many friends that they interviewed? That Sage girl and Katniss whatserface still have a year or two left in the Reapings, and you can't say adding them wouldn't make the games more interesting."

"I know." Gale's voice was serious, unlike most of the teasing or self-assured remarks he had uttered over the past 24 hours.

"No, you don't. But you'll learn, one way or another."

"Trust me, alright, I've got it."

"It's not me who's trusting you, Gale. It's all your little siblings, and friends who are on the line if you fuck up. You may feel like the smartest guy in the world, but trust me, even that won't stop them." There was no arguing with Haymitch.

"Fine. Everyone's going to die, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Thanks for the pep talk." Gale rolled his eyes before standing up. "Where's the interview?"

"Flickerman's waiting outside." Gale stormed out as best he could while still maintaining a casual air for any cameras. Flickerman greeted him from behind an immaculate mirrored table as he walked through the door. The cameras drooped dully in their stands, but Caesar's presence made privacy unobtainable. Gale dropped into the plush leather seat provided.

"Congratulations by the way on the victory, it saved me a bit of trouble at the very least."

"Thanks, guess an hour-long interview with Thresh would have been a drag. Probably would have set a record though, 'Least number of total words spoken by a tribute.'"

"Yes, I don't know if you were old enough to remember Trent. Even I was close to sleeping! Not that I want that taken back to him." Gale acknowledged his conspiratorial wink with a nod and a laugh.

"No worries. First interview I remember really watching was Finnick, and he was plenty entertaining."

"Yes, he _was_ good. I hear you're trying to follow in his footsteps." Gale laughed again.

"Save the interrogation for the interview, I'm sure you'll learn more than you want to."

"Oh, I doubt that." Gale started as the cameras came to life, but Flickerman waved him off.

"They're just turning on. They'll do a count down before we go live."

"Sorry, just a little edgy."

"Don't worry about it. I think it was Renna quite a few years back that broke one of the cameras before filming. What a mess that was! They've been reinforced ever since."

"Smart thinking."

"Thirty seconds," shouted a voice in the back.

"Not that I think you need the reassurance, but just remember to relax. They already love you, and it's only an hour."

"I think I'm past the whole stage-fright thing by now."

"You'd be surprised."

"Five, Four, Three, Two."

"Good afternoon Panem! Seems like it was only yesterday that we were opening these Games, and now here we are at the finish line. What do you have to say for yourself Gale?"

"Sorry I ended the party early. I had a few others booked that I didn't want to miss."

"It really has been all one big party hasn't it? What were you thinking planning that little impromptu gathering on the roof?"

"Well, this city's really infectious. I saw everyone else having fun, and decided to join in. It was pretty boring after training was over, and I wasn't going to waste my time in such a beautiful place lying around."

"I hope things haven't been as dull this time around." Gale laughed.

"Definitely not. So much is happening, so many people to meet. It's almost more overwhelming then the Games!"

"I'm glad you've liked it. Any particular favorites so far?"

"I like the way things are done here. No beating around the bush. If you want something, you go for it, that's how I operate and I'm glad this city's caught on. Company's not too bad either."

"Have any favorites in _that_ area?"

"You know Caesar, I don't feel qualified to make that decision. Maybe once I've gotten to know more people, it'll be easier. Know anyone who'd be willing to help out?"

"You really do have a one track mind, Gale."

"One of my many, and varied talents." He gave a wink to emphasize his point.

"Any of these talents you found particularly useful?"

"Well-"

"Let me rephrase, any talents you could learn in the training room. Officially," he added when Gale made to speak again. Gale rolled his eyes.

"If you want to be boring, I guess my best answer is that it's not the things you learn in training that helps but the things you bring to the table." Caesar made to interrupt, but Gale soldiered on. "After all, where would Cato have been without his strength, or Marvel his speed? Those are things all the practice in the world can't compete with."

"So you're saying natural talent trumps training."

"Not necessarily, but usually. Take Vix for instance. She was smart and cunning. That trick with the bodies was brilliant. But that didn't make her a Victor. I don't think I ever once saw her near the weapons during training; it was all plants and camouflage. Those skills'll get you past the first few days, but then it comes down to weapons, and fighting."

"So you stress combat skills?" Gale shrugged.

"Eventually. But first you've got to live through the first half of the Games. You've got to be either strong enough to survive, or smart enough to run during the first few minutes, and then make your way until the time comes to move. That's where the Career pack becomes so useful. As long as a larger group sticks together, and hunts down any outsiders, one of them is practically guarantied to win. The only question is which one."

"Is that why you became allied with Glimmer, Marvel, Pearl, Clove, and Cato?"

"Mostly. It helped that the girls were rather nice on the eyes."

"And that brings us to the question we've all been dying to ask. Glimmer."

"That's not a question."

"Astute observation," Caesar gave a big full-throated, painfully counterfeit laugh. "How about this, what were your feelings toward Glimmer?"

"Way to ease me into it." Gale laughed. "I don't know. Glimmer was Glimmer. She was hot, strong, reasonably intelligent, maybe a little too trusting." Gale laughed again. "She was a good fling, but not nearly enough to hold _my_ interest."

"Who is?" joked Caesar.

"Not many. Maybe someday, but for now I am a very free agent."

"It always seems to come back to that with you. Gale, are you just using this interview as a chance to pick up a date?" asked Caesar in mock outrage.

"No, whatever gave you that idea?" he asked, eyebrows pulled in bewilderment. Caesar gave a laugh.

"Nothing, Nothing. Now, back to the questions." Gale grinned. "How long were you planning that little maneuver with the berries? I have a hard time believing you were acting impulsively." Gale smiled and shifted on his seat, flicking his eyes toward the cameras.

"For a while. Truth be told, I'm surprised no one's attempted it before. The chance to cut your competition in half… It's worth any risk, and with poison, as long as you do it right, even that's negligible. I figured at least one of them wouldn't eat enough to die, but I at least thought they'd all have _some. _I really wasn't counting on going into that fight with Glimmer with her in full health."

"Scared of fighting a girl Gale, where has our daring tribute gone?" They laughed along with the hidden crowd.

"Like I said, Glimmer's strong and smart. It's a miracle I got away without taking heavy damage. That's the main reason I used poison. I'm smart enough to know who I can't take in a fight."

"I think you're one of the first tributes to outright state they weren't the most capable tribute."

"Now, I didn't say that. Fighting ability is only one type of strength. I think it's fairly safe to say I was the smartest tribute going in."

"And the confidence returns."

"Never left. I just know my limits, and there are certain things I can't go up against and expect to beat."

"So, what were your plans if the poison didn't work."

"The poison had to work. There was no way it couldn't. Even if say Marvel, or Pearl hadn't eaten enough berries, the remaining tributes would have likely blamed each other and fought. As long as I played dead long enough, I had nothing to worry about."

"But say you couldn't find the berries." Gale gave an embarrassed smile.

"That _would_ have been a problem. Haymitch and I talked about sending some into the arena, but we both thought it'd be a bit obvious. Plan B was to convince everyone Cato had lost it, and start a lot of infighting. For a while I debated convincing Glimmer and Pearl to ditch the rest of the tributes and form threesome to attack the other tributes, but eventually, against my own wishes, I had to acknowledge that there was no actual survival-based advantage to that plan."

"It would have made for an entertaining Game," remarked Caesar wistfully.

"I agree entirely."

"I've noticed, you haven't been mentioning Clove in your plans, any reason?"

"You saw how Cato started acting when she died. I'm pretty sure he was moping after her."  
>"Frightened by a little competition?"<p>

"If the competition's Cato with a sword? Yeah. I'm pretty terrified."

"But, you're the Victor, he's not. Clearly we know who'd win in a fight."

"Maybe, maybe not. The whole point of the poison was never having to find that out. The only reason I beat Glimmer was by tricking her. In a straightforward fight Cato'd kill me quicker than Thresh was going to."

"But you beat Thresh, who's to say you couldn't have done the same against Cato?"

"Well, first I'd say 'beating' is a strong word to use concerning my fight with Thresh. 'Barely outlasted' might be more accurate. Second… I really don't know how a fight would have gone between me and Cato, I'm just happy I didn't have to try it."

"But it would have been so _memorable,_" moaned Caesar petulantly.

"Sorry to disappoint. I thought my fights with Thresh and Glimmer would make up for it, but I guess not."

"You keep coming back to your fight with Glimmer. What were your thoughts in the middle? I know we were all very worried about you." Gale laughed.

"You weren't the only one. I don't know if you could tell, but I was practically shaking out of my boots!" After Caesar hastily confirmed that no one could tell, Gale went on. "Well, I already told you I wasn't sure if I could beat her. Glimmer was a little confused still after all the excitement, but she wasn't _that_ confused. So I decided to change that."

"Are you referring to your little speech?"

"Of course. It was the quickest thing I could think of doing. I decided that if I started making crazy accusations and spouting nonsense, I could distract her enough to win."

"So all that stuff you said, about the Careers-"

"And the poor starving children of district 12?"He interrupted, a look of absolute seriousness on his face. He held firm for a few seconds, staring deeply into the cameras before bursting into a small fit of laughter. "God, I can't keep a straight face. I'm a little surprised she took me seriously on that one. I mean really, when's the last time _anyone_'_s_ died of starvation? There's plenty to eat. It was just the craziest thing I could think of. Plus I thought it might make her less sure about winning."

"It certainly did that! I don't know what you're thinking, Gale, that was one of the best lie's I've heard in a long time. Even _I _started getting worried that you were telling the truth!"

"Really? I thought it was just because she was already emotionally compromised. That _is_ funny. I can't believe people actually believed me."

"Don't worry, we found out the truth soon enough. The producers sent out a memo about a half-hour after the fact. It seems a few concerned citizens started bothering them."

"What a mess. Sorry to have caused any trouble. Like I said, it was the craziest thing I could think of."

"Crazy it was. Glad to know everything's been sorted out now."

"I should hope so."

"So was there any truth in your first statement?"

"Which one was that?"

"The one about the Careers."

"Well," he started sheepishly, "there was some truth and a lot of lies."

"Really?" Caesar leaned forward, and Gale did his best not to take a small scoot back. Instead he inched closer on the chair and continued.

"Well, it is a bit hard watching my district lose year after year. I mean, think about it, 12 of the past 15 Victors have been from districts 1, 2, or 4. At the very least it's repetitive isn't it?"

"It _would _be nice to shake things up a bit," conceded Caesar.

"And think about how it is for us. I don't hate the idea of Careers, or the people themselves, I just wish district 12 could get its act together enough to make some of our own. I'm a little competitive, and loosing year after year is starting to get old."

"And why didn't _you_ do something about it?"

"Well, I did eventually." Gale gestured around himself, and Caesar laughed along.

"I mean why didn't you volunteer, or convince others to do so?"

"What makes you think I wasn't going to volunteer anyway?" challenged Gale.

"Were you?"

"Well, no. But that's for other reasons."

"Such as…"

"I'll tell you what I told the other tributes in training. In district 12, we weren't sure Haymitch would keep supporting us if we were volunteers."

"Why on earth not?" He asked in bemusement.

"You'd have to ask him. Haymitch's a weird guy. I think deep down he's a lot more insane than we give him credit for."

"Maybe down in district 12. Here in the Capitol, Haymitch's been given plenty of credit."

"So I hear."

"I remember his very first interview, before the start of his Games. He was the year with 50 tributes, as I'm sure you'll remember. I asked him what his opinion was of there being twice as many people."

"And what did he say," asked Gale, whole body fixed as if Caesar's every word were worth twice its weight in gold.

"Told me it didn't matter, because the others were just as stupid as usual."

"And I guess it didn't."

"Too true. Still, rather weird kid, right from the start."

"You don't have to tell me. I remember the first time I saw him. I think I was about four. He was passed out on the sidewalk, and I went in for a closer look. Then he jumped up like some sort of monster, and chased me about ten feet shouting. I don't think I've ever run so fast since!" They laughed together, and then Gale and Caesar continued trading Haymitch stories, as well as petty gossip about the Games and the people he had met. Serious matters aside, Gale tried to engage himself in the trivial banter used to fill up the remaining hour. He expertly hid his relief as, after what felt like several long years, Caesar finally glanced at the clock dramatically and gave a hugely exaggerated start.

"My, my, where has the time gone? Our hour's almost up."

"Really, so soon?"

"Don't worry Gale, I'm certain this won't be our last meeting."

"I should hope not. It's been wonderful seeing you again Caesar."

"Any parting comments for our viewers?"

"For those in the districts, work hard; these people deserve everything you have to give them. For everyone here in the Capitol… I hope to see you soon."

"That's it folks, tune in later for some past interviews examined by Vinnet Goldsmith." The cameras darkened, and Caesar turned to shake Gale's hand.

"Well done Gale. It really has been nice talking with you."

"Same here. And thanks for hosting. Games wouldn't be the same without you."

"Always the flatterer." Caesar smiled anyway. "I hope you'll excuse me, but I have a party to get to, and I'm sure you do as well."

"Probably," agreed Gale bashfully.

"Goodbye, if I don't see you before you leave."

"Are there any other official interviews?"

"No," Flickerman shrugged. "But I'll still be around and we might run into each other. This town's quite small once you get used to it."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it. Too many new things to experience." Flickerman gave a light nod, and bid another farewell before departing. His stylist's assistant's buzzed in as soon as he left.

"Well, time to fix up my outfit," he joked as they rushed him into the changing room. Barely an hour later, he was in another car, headed to another party, and trying to picture another host, one much less desirable even than Caesar Flickerman.

* * *

><p><strong>Review!<strong>


	22. Epilogue

23. Epilogue

Seven to five days later, Gale found himself on the train once again. The appearance of his old bedroom on the train was so sudden, that Gale had at first suspected himself to be dreaming. One moment he had been passing out on the veranda of a wealthy neurosurgeon, after inhaling copious amounts of an unknown substance at his host's insistence, and then next he was opening his eyes to the shaking movement of the train. Gale ran his hand through his hair, brushing off the lingering survivors of a battalion of glitter that had been dumped in his hair somewhere between three and four days previous. He wasn't quite sure. The days and nights blurred together as he swam through party after party, most of which he wasn't entirely anxious to remember in the first place. His hosts had usually been more then happy to help on this front, and Gale couldn't yet decide if he grateful for it or not.

He shrugged the covers off before stepping out of bed, and wandering to the shower. No one had thought to provide the convenient little pills to kill his hangover, and it was returning with a vengeance. He hadn't drunk anything, but whatever drugs he had taken weren't kind on the body. He could still vividly picture the exact gesture with which the woman had offered several brightly colored pills, with a slurred, "They'll make tonight the best you've ever had." She was slipping off the love seat as she held them out to him, but although her entire body collapsed in on herself, the hand with the pills remained steady until she landed ungracefully on the floor with a faint "ooof," and a tittering giggle. After that, nothing. He didn't ever remember taking them, only looking around for escape and being confronted only by smiling, eager, faces and security cameras. And she might even have been telling him the truth. It could have been the greatest night in the world, or the worst. He would never know for sure.

The steamy shower was a pleasant relief to his aching body, but the complex scents it bombarded him with went straight into his brain and began digging their way into his skull, like plants suddenly taken root over night. Despite his fervent attempts, he couldn't quite wash all of the multihued flecks from the arbitrary locations they had decided to colonize. He gave up after only a few minutes effort. Gale was tired, and a few bits of glitter weren't going to kill him. There was a time when he would have considered each speck of frivolity a direct affront to his entire person, but that was before the Games.

When Gale left the bathroom, an outfit was already placed on his bed. It was relatively modest by his new standards, garishly disgusting by his old. He glanced over to the closet, but didn't enter, not entirely trusting himself not to grab the most comfortable thing inside to wear instead. But he wasn't home yet, and he had an image to maintain. He shoved his arms through the sleeves of the glimmering shirt. Sequins and sparkles had somehow become his token look, much to his regret. He would have to mention his dislike for them the next time he spoke with Portia.

Gale wandered into the dinning car, unsurprised to see Effie quietly ignoring him in favor of a small electronic planner, and Haymitch glumly staring at his juice. He pulled up a chair, not bothering to acknowledge either before shoveling food into his mouth at the fastest rate he could manage without ruining his clothes. Despite the copious amounts of food offered at the parties he had attended, Gale had quickly lost his appetite at the sight of guests throwing up in the bathrooms. It had been a close tie between his instinctual disgust at the act, and his well-thought-out loathing of the implications behind it, but eventually, after seeing one person return for fifths, his outrage had won out. People literally ate more in one sitting than he had eaten some weeks in the months immediately following his father's death.

But now he was hungry, and Haymitch's disheveled appearance wasn't about to put him off his breakfast. He had already torn through several eggs, and half a loaf of toast before Effie began speaking.

"We arrive in the station at twelve noon, district 12 time, and where the Mayor will formally congratulate you on your victory. Usually there's also a ball at one of the Victor's houses welcoming you into the community, but…" Here she trailed off with look directed at Haymitch that would have been contemptuous, if her glee at her recent rise in popularity hadn't still been evident in her every action. "As Haymitch was busy in the Capitol, there hasn't been time to arrange anything. I believe some of your friends may have planned something." Gale hoped to god they hadn't, but at the very least their parties would be much less horrible than the Capitol's. What Gale really wanted to do was duck off into the woods, but he doubted he would have the opportunity to do so for some time.

"At any rate," Effie concluded, pulling Gale back into the conversation, "I think it will be quite lovely."

"What will?"

"The ceremony. Haven't you been paying attention?"

"Sorry."

"Now go occupy yourself until the train pulls in." Gale could tell she was still rather miffed at him, but he knew she would forgive him quickly. After all, his success had meant her success, and as she had elatedly related to him at some point, she had been told she would receive a position in district 4 as soon as its current escort retired. She had quickly added that while district 4 hadn't won since the half-mad girl Annie, they would probably be making a comeback soon. Gale thought that they wouldn't dare to do anything else under Effie's command.

After his dismissal, Gale spent the next few hours enjoying the first peace he had had since those blissful few hours before the Re-Cap. While he wouldn't have dubbed them peaceful at the time, compared to the constant, unending stress of the parties, a few minutes of mental breakdown sounded like heaven. He watched the scenery flicking by him, and Gale found it difficult to comprehend that he was, at this very moment, going home. More than two weeks had passed since he had traveled this path before, and it felt like both yesterday, and a lifetime ago. Part of him still feared he would wake up and find that he had dreamed his victory, that he would find himself sleeping next to Pearl or Glimmer. But that wasn't possible. Because he had won, and they were dead. He had known them less than a week in total, and yet Gale felt connected to the Careers, even Cato, in a way markedly different any other relationship he had ever had. Although they were dead, Gale knew he would see their faces in his nightmares for the rest of his life.

He didn't know them, not at all. One small, couldn't have given him even a small of their picture life. But the Games _was_ their life. It was their dream, their hope, their goal, and their one time to shine. And each had thought they had what it took to succeed. Which was a greater insight to the soul, a few short days of intense concentration, or years of cursory study? How could he know these people better than those he had grown up with, better than Jay, or Thatch? Did he know them at all, or was all he saw just a front. For all he knew, Cato could have been a loveable puppy-dog once you got to know him. Gale snorted. Ok, maybe it couldn't be that bad. But how well did he really know Marvel, or even Glimmer? Gale felt there was something much more to them, but it would be impossible to discover. They were gone. Dead and buried by this point. Gale wondered if, during the Victory Tour, he could see their graves. If he would be allowed to, by both their family members and the all-seeing Capitol.

Gale rested his elbow against the windowpane, and was startled to feel a lump under his skin. He felt around on his arm, before realizing the object's identity. The tracker. Gale moved mechanically into the bathroom, glancing into the mirror. A stranger's face greeted him. By anyone's standards, the face opposite him was more handsome than the one that would have been reflected in it a few weeks previous. His skin was flawless, his hair perfectly styled. His scraggly teenaged beard was gone. He was clean, and even the garish clothes didn't make him look foolish.

But he was empty. Expressionless. Before the games, he had been filled with anger. Hatred. Passion. Emotion. Before the games, he had actually given a fuck about something. That Gale would have hated this Gale. Would have punched him in his moronic the face for going along with the Capitol's plan so docilely. That Gale was also spoiled, selfish. Stupid. That Gale had frightened a few Gamemakers for the hell of it. That Gale had decided to forget his supposed cares and throw a party on the rooftops. Whenever that Gale had acted, he had felt something. He had done what needed to be done, but regretted it. Had to struggle against every instinct he had to do something as simple as smile at the crowd, or flirt casually with a camera.

Gale looked at his reflection. Looked at the gaudy clothes, and the manufactured look. Manufactured emotions, too, he thought, as he gave himself a winning smile.

But he couldn't do it. Maybe he wasn't so different from that Gale after all, because he couldn't just sit here and stare at the innocent little bulge on his arm that imprisoned him as surely as any iron chain. Because that bulge meant nothing he ever said, or did was safe. It could have microphones. It could have sensors, detecting his pulse, telling the entire world when he lied. It could even have poison, ready to be released the moment he did something they didn't like. He could never know, and would have to live his life in fear every moment it resided under his skin. So his decision was actually rather simple.

Gale punched the mirror. Cameras would be on him, but he doubted destruction of property was something whoever was monitoring him had never seen before. Gale grabbed one of the larger pieces, and before he could think, plunged it into his arm. The sharp edge bit and tore at his muscles, and it hurt, but Gale couldn't find it in himself to care. It was as though the pain he was feeling was somehow disconnected from the rough motion of his hand as he made an incision next to the lump in his muscle. The cut was messy, and blood began obscuring his view, but soon Gale felt plastic stop the motion of the glass. Glancing down, through the mess of fluid, he could just barely make out a clear cylindrical object.

He removed the tracker, sometimes digging with his nails, other times pushing from the other side. It didn't come easily. His flesh had healed around it, and protested as the muscles were forced to relinquish their new companion. Gale rinsed off the bit of plastic and metal, eyes focused on the circuitry within. Parts were moving, and Gale knew for a fact that someone, somewhere, knew he had torn it out. He could only hope they didn't care enough to get him a replacement. Gale took the object, and mechanically moved to the window. Wind rushed into his room as soon as he opened the pane of glass, and his sheets were thrown every which way. Gale let go of the tracker without any warning or hesitation, and it was swept instantly away in the breeze.

Task complete, Gale wandered over to his bed, sat down, and waited for Effie to come bursting in and to berate him about his arm.

* * *

><p><strong>Yep, it's done. To be honest, I'm just not feeling very motivated to write this story, and this felt like a good place to end it. There will probably not be a sequel, unless I get roughly one billion reviews begging me to continue it. I don't have much time right now, so instead I'm focusing my energy on a piece of original fiction. Thank you so much for reading, and please review with any final thoughts, even you're just yelling at me. :)<br>**

**PS. To those reading this several weeks/months since this chapter was published, please review too, it'll still be nice to hear from you.  
><strong>


End file.
